


Hired Guns

by f130Neptune



Category: Rosario + Vampire
Genre: Action & Romance, Alternate Universe - Military, Crimes & Criminals, Drama & Romance, F/M, Gen, Lemon, Organized Crime, Redemption, Slow Burn, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2019-08-24 23:20:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 47,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16649779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/f130Neptune/pseuds/f130Neptune
Summary: The "St. Lukes Hospital Massacre" changed his life. The Ayashi Civil War almost broke him. Now the Chinese Mafia has got him on a tight leash. It ain't easy being a hired gun.





	1. Chapter 1

Hired Guns

Chapter 1

\--8 years after the Fairy Tale incident--

"Have you heard?"

"What?" Mizore asked in a somewhat annoyed tone. She was lounging around her apartment wearing nothing but an over-sized shirt and her panties. As expected of a Snow Woman, the AC was at its coldest. She flopped on to the couch and propped up her voluptuous porcelain-like legs.

"Huang Fang Fang of the Huang Family apparently bought a hotel in the Roppongi District. We don't know yet if he's moving in." The voice was slightly distorted. A layman wouldn't be able to know if it was a man or a woman.

"And so…?" her voice was dripping with snark.

The person on the other side caught on to Mizore's apparent lack of interest. The voice sighed "Boss says he wants you on the team."

"What?" she was rather surprised "You know..." there was a slight pause "I am not going to talk about work today!"

Too damn right.

"W-wait, Mizore!…"

"Oh, come on! It's my day off! I'm hanging up, bye!"

"W-wait!..."

She threw the phone on a basket of unfolded clothes and covered her eyes with her forearm. "Damn it…"

The Huang Family was connected to numerous assassinations- with victims mostly consisting of members and leaders of rival organizations. Aside from that, the family was also suspected of being involved in various weapons and artifact smuggling, as well as gambling and money laundering cases.

Yet there was no conclusive evidence to warrant action against them. Not when they have a hold of the multinational hotel conglomerate. Circumstantial evidence got them nowhere; they needed concrete proof of the acts.

Recently it was reported that the Huang Family bought a chain of hotels in Las Vegas, causing the FBI to direct its attention to the family. It gave intelligence agencies a shot at having jurisdiction in the event that the Huang Family reveals its colors.

"And now they're making their way here."

She felt the pressure already, even though it hadn't even started.

Mizore found an unlikely calling. After graduating from Yokai Academy, she enrolled at Tokyo University and obtained a bachelor's degree. After that she went straight for the Police Academy. She found out that her penchant for stalking had its use in a real world setting. Though it proved difficult in the initial years, she managed to push through and become a diligent and respected agent in the National Police Agency.

She briefly tried doing undercover jobs, but found that it was too difficult. Mizore didn't actually have a wide range of emotions and her life was almost put to an end after a botched entrapment operation. After that, she swore off undercover duty and went back to her specialty: surveillance. Her skill and patience proved vital to the agency and soon she was doing jobs 24/7 and even had the chance to work with the FBI in a joint operation once.

Yet she was mortal and could only take so much abuse. She requested a three day leave of absence to gather her thoughts and to refresh her body and soul. When she was at work, she was at work. If she wasn't, may god help anyone that tried to take away her sweet time alone; except for emergencies. There's an exception to everything, right?

Her thoughts hark back to the conversation she just had.

She knew who the head of the organization was. She fought with him in battle and could even consider him a friend. But that was a long time ago. She told herself that the likelihood of a 'conflict of interest' was close to maybe five or ten percent. She just knew guy for like a year and a half before he disappeared.

Then her thoughts ventured into topics that she hardly ever thought about.

"Is Tsukune with him?" she said aloud, not expecting a reply. She knew full well that Fang Fang had been aggressive in trying to recruit Tsukune Aono in the ranks of the Chinese Mafia. She never considered it, and plainly refused to acknowledge that there was a possibility that he would join.

Or maybe she was just in denial.

But who knows? It's been a long time since she saw him. Not since the St. Luke's Hospital Massacre in Tokyo a few years ago.

She'd heard of his exploits in the Yokai Civil War as a war hero fighting for the sake of humanity and as sergeant of a band of misfits called Beta Squad. He was later declared MIA after a thorough search. Mizore tried to dig up any clues to his whereabouts, but soon gave up as it seemed that there was no new record of the man after his disappearance. That and her work also got in the way.

He wasn't dead. She knew that much. There was no logical explanation as to how she knew, but she just sensed that he was out there somewhere, maybe doing some good in this world.

She had brief flashback of the night they shared so many years ago. The snow woman's cheeks were flushed with a deep shade of red at the lewd thought.

But then it quickly turned into regret. They didn't exactly end on good terms. Adding more strain to her conscience was the fact that Tsukune himself wasn't the most 'okay' person at the time. It took her quiet a while to accept the fact that she took advantage of him.

In a sense, he also used her.

She didn't know how he felt when they parted. Was he going to forget that it happened and go back to Moka? Was he going to stop her?

She still remembered the day she said goodbye and it left a bitter taste in her mouth. She didn't stand a chance against Moka, and frankly she didn't mind covering up the wounds on Tsukune's heart. She knew that it was her only chance to be with him and that it would be a once in a lifetime thing to make love to the man that was never destined to be hers.

Mizore still remembered Jack Frost's words "you will never be with Tsukune." The words were like blades lodged into her heart. Even after all those years, they still stung.

She sat back up and brushed her hair back with a hand, still flustered.

"Where the hell is that asshole?"

The thought of him had her double-check on what day it was. She went over to her little calendar on the wall. It was already April. She'd been so busy with her job that she didn't even realize that a month had already passed. She turned the page back to March where the number '8' had been encircled with with a red marker. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to celebrate with you...I've just been really busy..." she traced a finger on the number, apologetic for reasons she kept to herself. Since she had three days off, she'd make time to make up for it and celebrate. It was that time of the year again, where she got all melancholic- a holdover from her successful battle with depression.

She was going to need a hard drink later.

The snow woman grabbed the remote the TV remote and flipped through a couple of channels before landing on an entertainment section of a news program.

"Critics are calling it the most 'expensive cinematic disaster ever made'. Made with a budget of 4,500,000,000 Yen, the movie titled 'Requiem: A Tale of Love and Bullets'- directed by Watanabe Kishou- premiered three months ago and has even barely recuperated half of its budget. With renowned American film critic Roger Roberts calling the film as "lackluster and overhyped" and saying that 'Not even the superb acting and total devotion of newcomer Kurumu Kurono could save this bombastic and convoluted mess'."

Mizore gulped once she heard Kurumu's name. She looked at the clock. "Heh…" she was still in her undies. Her apartment was a mess and she hasn't even taken a bath yet.

"Shit! I'm gonna be late!"

~~~~~

The years had been good to Kurumu. She was absolutely stunning. The instant that members of both sexes laid their eyes on her, hormones raged so badly that they were practically back to being horny teenagers.

She filled out more, with her curves bumping up to 11. Her blue hair was shorter, almost like pixie cut with 3 months worth of growth time. She carried an air of elegance yet there was an underlying sense of melancholy when you looked at her. The cheerful grin she always sported was reduced to nothing more than a wan smile. But in the front of her friends, she reverted back to the ditzy and emotional young lass that they were so accustomed to- albeit slightly toned down.

"Sorry Cow Tits. Looks like I'll be running late… You go on ahead! I'll catch up."

"Ugghh! That girl!" Kurumu gripped her phone tight enough to almost break it. Well, who wouldn't be angry at waiting for over 20 minutes and then receiving a text like that?

Her phone vibrated again and took a look at the text.

"Again, sorry…" was Mizore's follow up.

The succubus furiously typed on the keypad "Just hurry up!" with that she pocketed the phone and let out a huff. People were staring at her; it was something she had gotten used to in her line of her work. Yet, despite being a critical darling and a rising star, none of the people that recognized her seemed to want to have a picture or an autograph with her. It may have something to do the smoke blowing out of her nose and ears.

Kurumu had been planning the reunion for about a month now and to see it all go sideways was vexing. She told them about the date and time a month earlier. 'Set your calendars!' she once said in a group call. She even rented a venue for their sleepover/all night booze-fest and all the necessary things that a diligent host should do.

She understood that some of them were too busy for a little get together. Like Moka and Kokoa who were too busy handling the family affairs and maybe even the entire Japanese society of Vampires; or their teacher, Shizuka, who was currently attending a convention abroad.

But she just missed them so badly. It might seem unimportant to other people, but it meant everything to her.

"What did she say, Kurumu?" San asked. She looked more mature nowadays and less like a loli after finally getting rid of her ridiculous polka dotted attire and opted for more casual clothes.

Kurumu sighed. "She said that she'll catch up."

"Typical Mizore." Yukari snickered. Ruby could chuckle. The older Witch was able to ask the beloved chairman for a leave for maybe 2 or 3 days. She was no longer the personal assistant of the Chairman but was Yokai Academy's Vice President for Academic Affairs. Yet from time to time she still acted like an assistant.

She never got out of her BDSM fetish though.

Out of all them, the most surprising development was Yukari. Puberty hit her hard. It was like she never inherited any sort of plainness from her mother. Her mother wasn't unattractive to say the least, but she was rather unnoticeable. Yukari on the other was a bomb shell. The attention she craved was finally granted to her after years of patiently enduring hardships. After noticing significant growth, she immediately sold her books on "asset development" –which occupied half of her bookshelf.

The witch's occupation was that of the engineering field. It took her a long time to figure out what she wanted out in life. One day, living life as a NEET, she had a vision. She couldn't remember what was in that vision of hers that revived her love in inventing things, but it was a godsend. Yukari Sendo was now owner of her own engineering firm.

Haiji Miyamoto rolled down the window of his black Toyota Fortuner "What's the hold up?"

Kurumu coolly walked towards the car and opened the door to the back seats "Mizore said she'll catch up. We should go." The succubus motioned for the others to get in. Once they were inside, Haiji pushed the parking brake down and put the SUV into first gear.

The ride to their destination was filled with noise as what you would expect from a bunch of friends who haven't seen each other in a while. They laughed and shared their stories (mainly gossip). They also reminisced about their life at the Academy and how fun it was going through the ups and downs together.

Haiji was mostly silent due as he was kind of left out since there was not much that he could share with the ladies and vice versa.

San, riding shotgun and being the loving senpai that she was, didn't fail to notice this and gave his arm a warm and reassuring squeeze. He was taken aback at this, so he briefly turned his gaze towards her. He realized what the Siren had done and diverted his attention back to the road.

A smile crept up his lips. It was like the good ol' days.

If only Gin was there...

"Check out those two." Ruby whispered to Kurumu's ears.

The other girls were as scandalous as ever. They noticed the affectionate gesture that San gave to Haiji and then teased the two relentlessly. San covered her blushing face and Haiji let out an undignified grunt.

"It's not what you think!" a blushing Haiji denied.

He knew that it was all in good fun. Eventually their contagious laughs got to him and soon he was laughing as well.

\--Aoyama Cemetery, Minato, Tokyo--

It was already peak bloom for the cherry blossoms. Haiji parked the car and the others got off. They could've have driven closer to the sight but they wouldn't want to miss the beautiful cherry blossoms. The road was covered in a light layer of pink, and even more of the petals started falling after a strong gush of wind.

The blossoms danced in the air as the wind kept them afloat. Kurumu looked up and smiled. The cherry blossom trees formed an arc that covered the sky, with small rays of the sun slipping through. A feeling of warmth spread across her body at seeing the nature's wonderful display.

Kurumu noticed that her friends were already gone. The cherry blossoms made her lose track of where she was going. "This is just great." The succubus' shoulders dropped and she scratched her head. She had been off quite lately. it was that time of the year again, where should have dreams of a man she had never met. After that she'd wake up crying and clutching her aching chest. It was frustrating; like there was a part of her that was missing or something buried that was trying to claw its way back up again.

There she was losing focus again. "Get your shit straight Kurumu!"

The area she was lost in was rather unfamiliar to her. Whenever they went to the cemetery, she'd always stick to one path and not bother on exploring the place. Granted, she didn't have time to explore since she could only make short visits. Such was the life of a working gal.

After a few minutes of being completely lost in the maze of graves, she finally found a familiar path that directed her to their original destination. She planned on the using the trees as a guide since the grave they were visiting was under one, but due to a confusing amount of cherry blossom trees, the idea was kind of moot and was thrown out the window.

In the distance, she saw a man kneeling on the ground and bowing in front of the gravestone. There was a wisp of smoke floating up in the air as he must have already lit a couple of incense.

As she got closer, she realized that the man was definitely in front of Ginei Morioka's grave.

It was strange though. She looked around and didn't see her friends yet. Maybe they were out looking for? Well whatever. The man noticed her presence and looked at her direction. He stood up and straightened his leather jacket in an effort to look presentable.

Damn, he's hot. The succubus bit her lip.

He was tall and well built. Kurumu made a rough estimate somewhere between 6'1 and 6'4. He was also handsome and somewhat rough looking. He had light brown hair and equally brown eyes. The young man had a look of surprise plastered on his face. It was the look you get when seeing someone for the first time after having been separated; or when you bump into a long lost friend in the grocery store.

Kurumu raised an eyebrow.

She was sure that she had never met the man, but he was awfully familiar.

"Hi." Kurumu opened the conversation. "Were you Gin's friend?"

She noticed the look on his face shift from surprise to confusion and then finally to resignation.

"Yes". He smiled warmly and held out his hand. "Nice to meet you."

There was a weird rosary-like thing wrapped around his wrist. Is he the religious type? She thought. Then she noticed all of the little details, like the numerous healed scars on the man's hand. Kurumu looked back up at his face. His eyes betrayed the smile that he wore.

In all her life, Kurumu never met someone so sad, yet so beautiful.

She accepted the gesture and felt a thick layer of calloused skin. She'd be forgiven at thinking that this man was some sort of army veteran or someone who went through some tough shit in his life. It only fueled her interest in the mysterious young man.

As the hand enveloped hers, gentle warmth ran up her arm. Her heart rate increased and she blushed furiously.

'Who is this person?' she thought. As she stood there staring at the man, Kurumu unintentionally let loose a few words.

"Have we met before?" the succubus asked absentmindedly. She didn't notice that a single tear had already streamed down her flushed cheeks.

He hesitated a bit before gulping, something the caught Kurumu's attention. It was like he was trying to think of an answer.

"I'm afraid not." He replied. Kurumu couldn't shake off the feeling that he knew more than he was letting on.

The man gently pried his hand away from hers. The loss of contact was sort of a disappointment and it left Kurumu wanting more. He stuck his hand into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a handkerchief and offered it to her after seeing her tears.

"Are you okay?" the man asked.

Kurumu averted her gaze in embarrassment after realizing that she had been crying in front of a total stranger "I-I'm…" she uncharacteristically stammered "I'm okay. S-sorry…"

She took the handkerchief and used it to wipe her tears, promptly giving it back to him after she had finished. Then he tilted his head to side after noticing that another person was about to join them.

It was Mizore. "Hey Kurumu! I'm sorry I was late, but where are-"

Then the snow woman saw the man standing before them. "the others?" she continued. Kurumu's keen eyes noticed the subtle look of surprise on Mizore's face. And then the succubus looked back at the mysterious man and then back to her friend.

The two traded awkward and somewhat wistful stares. It already gave a vibe that they knew each other. Like ex-lovers meeting at a reunion. Kurumu was already feeling a tinge of jealousy, but she didn't know why. It felt like she was an extra in her own movie after seeing the two look at each other.

Mizore remembered something that made her wipe away any sort of emotion from her face.

"Hey." He said plainly said.

Mizore bowed her head formally "It's nice to meet you. My name is Mizore Shirayuki. Were you an acquaintance of Ginei Morioka?"

He returned the bow "Yes, I was." He pulled back his left sleeve slightly and took a glance at his watch.

"I got to go." He once again offered them a smile "It was nice meeting both of you." He bowed curtly and quickly made a graceful exit.

It took a moment for Kurumu to regain her bearings. She realized that the man was already gone. The succubus looked back at her friend who was also stuck in a longing and regretful gaze while clutching her chest as if to catch her heart in case it jumps out of her rib cage.

"Mizore" she paused, trying to push out the words "Do you know him?"

The question brought the snow maiden back to reality and blinked a couple of times. "Can you repeat that?" she asked in confusion.

"I asked if you know him." there was a pause that almost felt like an eternity. "Do you?" Kurumu's tone was raised slightly.

"No." Mizore plainly denied it.

At that point Kurumu knew that Mizore was hiding something from her. She would just try to pry it out of her later.

Kurumu looked back to where the man was previously standing.

"Tsukune?" she said aloud.

Mizore's eyes widened and she almost cracked the lollipop in her mouth.

"Wait… who's Tsukune?" the succubus mumbled.


	2. Chapter 2

Hired Guns

Chapter 2

-Yokai Academy-

He was usually a cool but useless club president. Normally, all the work and planning would be shifted to Tsukune and his harem. But after days of lazing around the library, the cafeteria, and the main hall, he suddenly wondered what the hell was he doing with his life? It was a scary thought that the hedonistic werewolf usually pushed back. But after the Siren encounter back at the human world and after meeting San again, the laid back lifestyle he knew and loved was pushed into a corner.

He reflected on the years he spent at the academy. Was his entire high school experience a mere compilation of conquests, gratuitous bloodshed and perverted mischief? He couldn't even remember a time when he lifted a cover of a book. It was a miracle that he managed to reach third year with the sort of shit he'd been pulling off. Who knows, maybe he'd even graduate?

Graduate… then he realized that it was his final year at Yokai Academy.

Gin trudged back to the Newspaper Club HQ and looked at the group's calendar of activities.

There was absolutely nothing.

The werewolf almost had a mental breakdown, realizing that he was indeed a useless president. What would San think of me now? He wondered. Gin cursed the day he decided to grow a conscience,

He pulled out his phone and texted all of the members for a meeting.

"I have an idea! Tsukune slapped the table in a moment of eureka. Gin was almost blinded by the younger man's beaming optimism.

"The floor is all yours." Gin sat down and directed his attention towards Tsukune. The girls were silent and focused on their object of affection. Mizore was hiding behind a bookshelf, acting merely as a spectator and Kokoa was fast asleep with her head resting on the table. The ginger haired vampire let out a snore while a thin line of drool slid down her mouth.

"Why don't we have a photography seminar? We ask known photographers if they could do a presentation on managing equipment, recommended types of cameras, and uhh… tips and tricks to creating great images. After that we hold a photography contest?"

It was surprisingly a good suggestion, enough to pique the werewolf's interest. With a little more spit and shine, it could turn out quite well. It'd be the first substantial event that the NPC's ever held in a long time.

"That's pretty good Tsukune. I like it." Gin jutted down Tsukune's suggestion on a little black notebook the size of his palm. The girls looked at each other and nodded as their sign of approval. Tsukune smiled sheepishly and took his seat.

"Any other suggestions?" he made a mental bet on who would follow Tsukune's lead. His eyes wandered and landed on Moka; surely enough the pink haired vampire followed suit.

"This may sound derivative, but why don't we have a campus journalism seminar and workshop?"

Again with the seminars? Hmmm… Can't be that bad. Gin's thick brow lifted. "Please continue."

"Well we could go to the YNN and ask some of the reporters to lend a hand and participate in the event. We could have lectures, skill training essential to journalism, techniques in regards to science, sports, features, editorials and campus paper productions and etcetera…"

"We could also squeeze in some other types of journalism in your event Moka!" Kurumu added. The brainstorming finally got some traction.

The group participation was a pleasant surprise. Gin, with a warm smile, hung back and let their ideas fly freely.

"There's also visual journalism, which we can milk all the way; like drawing editorial cartoons. We can also have lectures on improving field reporting and storytelling." The succubus was on fire.

"That sounds good, you two." Tsukune complimented Kurumu and Moka which earned him loving gazes at his acknowledgement towards them.

"We can also ask the headmaster to allow collaborative projects with other the branches of Yokai Academy." Yukari added. "How about you, Ruby?"

The older witch held up her palms in a manner of polite rejection "I'm not really a member of the club, nor am I a student, so I don't really have any say in the matter."

Mizore peeked out from behind the book shelves, lollipop twirling in her mouth. "Why don't we have a stalking seminar?" she said in her usual deadpan voice. The suggestion was followed by an annoyed remark of disapproval from the succubus. Tsukune looked at the snow woman and gave her a cheeky smirk.

Mizore saw this and blushed. She gave a shrug as her response. "Geez, Cow Tits, you really can't take a joke?" she finally emerged from the shadows "I don't really have anything to add, but I'll design the new layout for the newspapers, all of the advertisement and promotions as well as all the legal papers should your ideas come to fruition. Is that a fine deal or not?"

They nodded and smiled at her surprising confidence and initiative. The brainstorming continued for a much longer duration. The gang argued and laughed at all their weird, lewd, and impossible ideas Yukari had to offer. Ginei folded his arms to chest and sat back, watching as the scene unfold.

The sounds of their voices were all muddled by then, but the werewolf couldn't help but feel a swell of pride in his chest. For a moment there, it actually felt like a real club and that he had done something worthwhile in his life.

So this is what it feels like? Gin mused while a hint of regret shone in his eyes.

"Everyone." Gin interrupted the group's banter. "This club..." he looked around the room, trying to take in as much as he can "This club is very special to me and to all of us. So when the time comes that I'm not here anymore... please take of her, okay?" it was the earnest that he could possibly go for.

The members understood his request. The club was home to a treasure trove of memories and moments that they would've never experienced otherwise. They understood that even though Gin was a lousy club president, the man wanted what's best for the club. The shared gazes turned into an unspoken agreement

But there is at least one part of the gang that wrecks the mood.

"Gin, quit it with the sappy shit. It's not like you."

They looked up on top of the bookshelf and found a bored Haiji Miyamoto.

"Haiji! What the fuck are you doing here?" This had to be that one moment that Haiji, of all people, had to witness. The werewolf knew that it would never be the end of it.

The tengu jumped down "You texted me, remember?"

A vein popped on Gin's forehead as he quickly took out his phone and saw the recipients of the text.

The crew watched on as the crow and the werewolf throwing their usual volley of insults.

-Japan, Present Day-

They all knew that there was nothing but a hollow urn inside his shrine-like gravestone. But he, like many others, lost his life in the fight against Fairy Tale and deserved no less than a hero's burial.

He saved them all that day. A move that was decisive in securing victory and saving Moka from the organization.

They all knelt down and bowed, praying that he may find the peace and happiness he longed for in life.

"You better not be chasing any ladies up there, Gin." Kurumu said with a fond smile. It was all made in jest, referring to the groups inside jokes about him.

Even though the details were rather fuzzy at best, a faint image of him comforting her in her moment of despair got etched into the back of her mind and it solidified the respect she had towards the man, despite their antagonistic relationship due to his perverse antics.

"Hope you're doing well up there." Mizore clasped her hands together. Their interactions with their senpai was at a minimum, with only a handful of personal conversations –some of them peppered with his trademark lewd remarks- but he was the club president, and was a part of their so-called 'Newspaper Fam'. Ruby and Yukari shared the same sentiments.

"Hey asshole! Don't cause any trouble or I'll come up there and kick your ass!" Even in death, the warm and friendly between vitriol the two knuckleheads never faded. Their relationship had been mostly filled with exchanges that ranged from snarky remarks to fists, but for Haiji, it felt like losing a brother. It was a friendship that was forged in the hottest of flames. The duo had been together for numerous battles that meant either life or death. But they managed to pull through every single time.

Well… not this time, I suppose…

San was quiet for the duration of their visit. The pain had already been dulled by time, but a sharp sting of regret still lingered each day.

"What is it Gin?" she asked, face flushed.

"Forget it. I'll tell you after we beat those guys." He gave an awkward chuckle coupled with a sheepish smile and scratched the back of his head, ever the shy boy in front of the siren.

She knew what he meant. She just wished he said it out loud before it was too late. Thinking about the 'what ifs' made her lose sleep for the past eight years. The indignant siren clutched her chest in an effort to quell the dull ache from the guilt.

If he just said it... If he just fucking said it! San thought bitterly.

Though her emotions were rather subdued, Haiji knew the inner turmoil hidden behind her gentle face. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and gave her a reassuring smile. The rest looked at the duo with knowing eyes.

Fairy tale really did a number on them.

The girls walked over to their upperclassmen and pulled them into an embrace.

XXX

After paying their respects to their departed friend, the squad was determined to end the day smiling.

The gang was already a few steps away from Haiji's SUV.

Mizore stopped walking as if a thought occurred to her.

"What's wrong?" Ruby asked, looking worried. The snow woman's sudden pause also caught Kurumu's attention.

"I think I left my wallet back there." Mizore quickly did a 180 and vaulted out of there "I'll be right back!"

As Mizore's figure faded into the distance, Kurumu - at first- was bemused. Then an idea formed in her mind; her bright purple eyes became dull and her general demeanor gradually became dour. As a gust of wind blew past them, Ruby caught a glance of the succubus.

It was as icy as the snow woman who had just left.

Once Mizore made a hefty distance from the group, she started going to another path entirely. She continued walking, her radiant blue eyes scanning the area with an almost desperate exertion.

The path was different, but at a certain point it became familiar. After a few more steps, she exited the cemetery and saw a sign that read:

-"ST. LUKE'S PARISH- 100M AHEAD"-

The walk towards said parish built up a sweat. Snow women were really sensitive to even the subtlest nuances in the temperature; or anything that went below their threshold of what was considered 'cool enough'. She removed her white cardigan, the spaghetti strapped, white singlet top she wore under it exposed a generous amount of her flawless skin. The tight fitting garment also accentuated the ample size of her bust and it was put into full view.

The snow woman threw the piece of cloth over her shoulder and continued walking.

The strong wind had already cooled her skin through the thin fabric of her icy-blue culottes; the removal of her cardigan only hastened the process.

She spotted the castle-like parish. It was grand in all the sense of the word. She went up the steps, yet another cause for sweat and went inside through the open doors.

The place was beautiful. It was a shame that it was rarely used, as there were only a handful of Japanese people that found their faith with Christianity. Admittedly, Mizore wasn't a religious person, but she could appreciate the delicate care put into creating their temples of worship. Her initial footsteps created loud echoes that reverberated against the chapel walls; she sighed and opted to glide along the pristine ceramic tiles as to not cause too much noise.

She went up to the church balcony, but only stuck her head out in hopes of spotting the cause of her visit. Finding no luck inside the parish, the snow woman descended from the stairs and exited the parish.

What was unique about the parish was that it was literally built on top of a grave. The snow woman made her way to the indoor ossuary situated under the church. An ossuary is a place where the remains of the dearly departed were stored in columbarium niches.

The ossuary was open on all sides and was right next to the garden, so the wind freely moved inside. It was dimly lit, but the natural light from the garden was bright enough to illuminate the exterior.

Columbarium shelves filled the room with about forty to fifty niches per shelf. At the center were rows of chapel benches and at the far end was the altar. Behind the altar was a separate columbarium with black plaques on each of the niches.

A lone figure was seated at the first row.

The snow woman was firmly glued to her place and unable to proceed. Eight years had already passed since their last meeting. And it was this very spot where they had said last meeting. Hesitation weighed her down like a pile of bricks and questions ran through her mind in frenzy.

What do I do? What should I say? What should we talk about? What if he doesn't want me here?

There wasn't any alternative, so she steeled herself. Mizore walked along the side aisles. Her steps were light, but the man had already noticed her presence.

Once she reached the first row, she took a seat at the far end opposite of him.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, not diverting his gaze from the columbarium. At the very top of the shelf was also a plaque, albeit longer. There the words 'May the victims of the St. Luke's Hospital tragedy be granted eternal peace.' were engraved.

"I was about to ask you the same thing." Mizore replied.

He finally looked at her "Shouldn't you be with you friends?"

"They're your friends too." She was keen on reminding him and was slightly offended by his dismissive tone. He made note of his callous remark and gave her an apologetic nod.

She felt awkward at the atmosphere, though it looked one-sided as Tsukune didn't seem to care. There are moments in life that when you meet a relative or an old, distant friend, you are unable to go past the pleasantries and remain in awkward silence at trying to think of relevant things to discuss. Mizore found herself in the exact situation.

Ask him how he is! she thought. 

"You look good Tsukune…"

No not that! She mentally scolded herself for the weak line that differed from the one she intended. The snow woman dissected his appearance. 'Good' was an understatement. Hidden under that black high-collar leather jacket was surely a really toned physique compared to the one he had eight years ago. There was also something very gruff –yet dignified- about the air that he exuded.

It was faint but she could even spot that he grew a five o' clock shadow which accentuated his chiseled jaw.

Aside from being gruff, he was also cold and distant. Like a man who had lived for so long and had just grew tired of life.

Upon even closer inspection, she spotted numerous scars that marred his hands.

Who knows how many more scars he hid under there?

Her eyes traveled to his holy lock: it looked fairly new but the links -save three or four of them- were already cracked heavily from abuse.

Then it occurred to her that he was a military vet that served against the anti-human faction in the great Ayashi Civil War.

What sort of hell did you have to endure, Tsukune?

"Thanks. I see you grew out your hair. It looks good on you, Mizore."

His voice pulled her back from her musing. "Oh… heh-heh…thanks." The snow woman meekly smiled and swept a stray lock of her hair behind her ear.

She blushed at the compliment, not knowing on whether it was genuine or merely a comeback for the flattery she threw at him. Indeed her hair had grown a significant length after a few years and it became less spiky. She didn't bother on maintaining the shoulder length after she became so busy with the force.

And with that, the momentum completely died down and they were back to a silent stalemate once again. At least it didn't seem as awkward compared to earlier.

"It's been a long time, Tsukune…" she paused "How are you?"

It took him a moment to respond to her question "I'm okay, Mizore. Just a retired soldier trying to live his life quietly now." He was stuck in a pensive stare while he talked. "How about you?"

"I'm fine. Keeping myself busy in restoring some peace and order in the land...I guess..."

Tsukune raised an eyebrow "So, you're a cop, huh?"

"Yes I am." There was a hint of pride in her voice "Why? Did you do something that would make me arrest you?" she accused him teasingly.

He chuckled. Though it was still too early to call it a success, Mizore's expression became radiant. Very slowly, his aloof demeanor started chipping away.

There was hope after all!

But a thought hit him like a sharp stinging wind and soon his smile devolved into a bitter and sardonic one. Mizore realized the implication of her teasing and quickly regretted it with all her heart.

I'm sorry… The words were stuck in her throat and it almost choked her.

[The Night We Me- Lord Huron]

"There she is."

"Who?" the snow woman asked, still reeling from the guilt. Tsukune pointed at the very center niche with a metal plaque that read:

[Kyouko Aono  
1992-2013]

Technically, Kyouko was his older cousin, but to him, she was and always will be his 'big sister.' Mizore, frustratingly so, was at a loss for words.

"Ken Suzumura owned a small coffee shop at Shinjuku. He proposed to his girlfriend and she said yes. They were to be married in his hometown in Kyoto."

"What?" Mizore tilted her head, puzzled at something so out of the blue.

"Naomi Ishida was granted a scholarship in the same university that I was to attend to." He paused after a lump had formed in his throat. "Shiori Ishikiwa gave birth to a healthy baby girl; the girl must be eight years old by now." There was an audible crack in his rough voice when he said the last one.

A realization dawned on Mizore and she eyed the niches closely.

[Ken Suzumura  
1990-2013]

[Shiori Ishikawa  
1988-2013]

[Naomi Ishida  
1994-2013]

Mizore felt a swell of pity for them. She looked back to Tsukune with tears pooling at the edge of her eyes.

"I did all this..."

He scanned the plaques dolefully and went over the names. "Eight years ago… all of them were complete strangers. After the incident, I stayed here for long a time, trying to remember their names and their faces." Not only did he memorize their names, but he also dug deep and looked into their past lives.

As a consequence, the people he considered strangers became part of him. To a degree that he grieved for them like family would.

They had families and loved ones that must have missed them. They had dreams and achievements, which compared to his, were more relevant and meaningful.

He robbed them of the happiness that they deserved in life.

After the incident, he stayed inside the ossuary, praying to whatever god that listened. He wasn't a religious person, but it was the first time in his life that he was knocked down on his knees. Tsukune allowed the days to pass by like the flowing stream, all the while wishing that things had gone differently.

He smiled bitterly and shook his head. "If I'd only done what I was supposed to do, all of them would still be alive."

The image was clear as day. The halls of the hospital painted with blood and lifeless corpses strewn across the floor.

The woman in front of him curled up into ball, shaking like a feral animal at the sight of him approaching. As he channeled youki, bright blue sparks of electricity danced along his arm.

He gritted his teeth, preparing to deliver the finishing blow but hesitated at the moment he saw a fragments of his cousin behind the crazed red eyes that were like his.

That single lapse of judgment cost him dearly.

The ghoul gritted his teeth at the bombardment of all the negative emotions he tried so hard bury. Black veins crawled up his neck while his pupils emanated a blood red glow.

She wanted to kiss him, wrap him in an embrace and tell him everything will be alright, she wanted to do anything to help him fight away the anguish that was slowly eating away his sanity. But the snow woman kept her emotions in check.

Mizore wiped away the tears before they had a chance to cascade down her cheeks and calmly scooted over to his side, despite his current mental instability and placed warm and firm hand over his. It was a gamble, but she took it nonetheless.

Tsukune twitched violently at the contact, and it unnerved Mizore, but she stood her ground. Her hand was naturally cold, but her feelings were warm enough to travel over to him. The trembling of his clenched fist died down and his grip loosened. The crimson from his irises quickly dissipated and the black veins on his neck slowly receded as soon as he saw the worry in her eyes.

She sighed in relief once everything returned to normal.

Though it didn't show on his face, he was grateful for her quick response and he that she was always like that; he just forgot. Even when he was with Moka, she would still be in the sidelines, keeping an eye on him while doing her own thing.

When did you become this strong, Mizore? He thought.

Their hands slowly unfurled and soon their fingers were intertwined. He averted his gaze to hide his embarrassment.

She also averted her gaze, but their hands still clasped on to each other tightly. The heat on their pressed palms sent pleasant shivers down their spines. Who could blame them? Years without intimacy could do that to a person.

There was a time when she got over her infatuation towards him and saw him as a mere a friend. It was almost cathartic to not be bound by her affection and to be able to focus on her own future. It was also the time that they got closer to each other. It was a normal male-female relationship without any semblance of romance.

Tsukune and Moka's relationship was already laced with romantic undertones even before they decided to go the next level.

So their friendship was an achievement in itself. But Tsukune and Mizore's past was for another time.

"This is really giving me déjà vu." The snow woman muttered.

"Yeah." His replay was quick.

Silence engulfed them once again, but it was more comfortable, with words becoming unnecessary. It was like a dream. Had eight years really passed? Even though they seemed like completely different people leading different lives, if felt like it was only yesterday since they went to the same school.

"My first mission was an undercover operation." She gripped on his hand tighter, which he reciprocated. "We were investigating an alleged human trafficking ring led by a foreign organization operating on Japanese soil. It was a joint operation between the NPA and the FBI so it was a pretty major one."

He glanced to the side, listening attentively to her story.

"I was fine with doing reconnaissance, but my commanding officer assigned me to go undercover. I objected at first, but he wouldn't have it as they already had finished doing surveillance. So they dressed me up, and paired me with another agent to pose as potential buyers. It was horrible." Mizore grit her teeth. "I hated it. How they treated them like mere toys and punishing them brutally for simple mistakes like dropping a piece of bread or spilling a drop of water."

While they continue to hold hands, Tsukune gently brushed his thumb over her index finger in order to soothe her.

The fat bastard who ran the ring led us to a room and gave us a tour of their 'items for sale'. They were all scared and bug eyed. Shivering like shitting dogs while their limbs where chained to walls. They could hardly be considered in mint condition with all the wounds that marred their skin. And then… something caught my eye at the far end of the room.

After a pause that seemed like forever, Mizore continued. They were twins, no older than me, scared beyond reason and clinging to each other for their lives. They had purple hair and blue eyes: a trait very common to Snow Women. I had to confirm it so I went over to them.

The two scurried to a corner while I approached. They were absolutely terrified of me, and it broke my heart. Not because of their reaction, but because they were damaged and violated to the point that they were incapable of feeling trust for anything that came close to them. The sounds that they made could hardly be considered as words- incomprehensible, unintelligible drivel that sounded almost primal.

I knelt down and tried reaching for them. They were already backed up into a corner, so they couldn't run anywhere. They avoided my hand as if it was the hottest branding iron in the world.

"Please…" I managed to grab a hold of her wrist.

It was ice cold.

My suspicions were just proven true. They were Yuki Onna.

The cold that I exuded must have been a familiar touch to them. They instantly eased down and became tame. The look of dread was completely washed away from their faces. The twins trusted me, possibly the only positive contact they ever experienced.

It was at that moment that I decided that I would get them out and lock all of these fuckers in jail.

"Looks like they're quite taken with you." I heard the Fat Bastard as he said it with disgusting amazement.

The Fat Bastard and my partner discussed the method of transaction and agreed to one. He said that we will return tomorrow with the payment.

I wasn't able to sleep that night.

The operation was supposed to be a simple raid and rescue, but the entire plan got revised on the same night. We received intel that all of the victims, except for the twins, were bought by an unknown party and were to be shipped on the same day.

The sudden change was a godsend for us. It significantly minimized the possibility of a hostage situation.

It was the day of the raid and I only managed to find sleep just when the warm colors of the sun started bleeding into the deep blue sky. Since the plan changed, we were given marked bills to complete the transaction. We would get the twins out, signal for the squad, and the rest was up to them while the shipments of the other victims would be intercepted by different squads.

My partner was incessant in his reminders about trying to keep cool. He hammered them in my head, so that I couldn't jeopardize the mission. Apparently, my greenness was showing, or so he said.

"Remember, the boss said he doesn't want any casualties." I could only nod.

We went inside with the money. The Fat Bastard led us to the room that held the twins. It was as shocking and disgusting as the first time I went in. I visibly reeled from the stench of dried piss and shit that permeated the air. They unchained them from the walls and started dragging them towards us like disobedient dogs. Their agonized cries and the sound of cracking whips got blurred out with the anger boiling inside me.

My partner gently held me back, reminding me of the mission. I couldn't do a fucking thing so I just looked away. Retribution would come to them, I just had to wait. The whips had lowered their resistance and they were hauled towards us, leaving a trail of their blood on the floor.

The twins saw me and it was like all the pain they had just experienced was gone. It took everything I had not to break down and hold them close to me. I handed the briefcase of marked bills to the Fat Bastard and we started walking away along with the twins.

"You know…" the Fat Bastard started. "There were more like them."

I stopped in my tracks. "What?"

"Same hair color with varying shades, blue eyes and snow white skin. There were many more. It started when I was still a young and handsome man. I wandered a little too far from the nest and I ended up in a field of white flowers."

Fuck.

My eye twitched and the room became a few degrees colder despite the lack of air conditioning.

"I met a girl and she was picking those flowers." My fists were clenched, trembling with fury. I hadn't noticed that my fingers were already digging on my palms. The fucker was testing me, taunting me like he knew all this time that I was a snow woman.

He picked the opportune time to get into my head- when I was at my most vulnerable. Shame on me for being so transparent.

"The rest is history. It was a surprisingly effective modus. Each girl cost over a million Euros. It's amazing how far a little bit of good looks could get 'ya. "

I snapped.

"Stop!" I heard my partner. But it was a too late.

A claw of ice quickly formed around my hand and I launched a ice dagger at the throat of the henchman that was accompanying us. As he fell down to the ground, I grabbed his AK-47 and trained my sights on the Fat Bastard only to be gripped with apprehension once I saw that he had already pulled a gun on the twins.

He dragged them back to him using the chain connected to the metal collar on their necks.

"Put the gun down!" I ordered.

"You first." He replied.

I heard a fleshy thud behind me and my partner suddenly dropped unconscious to my side. I had already been surrounded by his mooks.

"You were too soft. TOO WEAK." The Fat Bastard jeered "I knew you there was something wrong the moment you came in." He violently pressed the barrel of the pistol on the head of one of the twins. "So you're one of them huh? What were you called again? Yuka-Onni, Yuki-Onno.., or whatever."

"Drop the gun, NOW!"I heard safeties being disengaged behind me. I was trembling and sweating uncontrollably; to think that my first confrontation would be a fucking Mexican standoff. I kept my sights glued to the Fat Bastard while I slowly backed up to the rusty wall.

"Drop yours and maybe I'll spare your life. I could always add another Snow Woman to my collection." I heard the mooks lock the door behind us. There were four or five of them. It was fucking tense. One wrong move could kill me or those twins. If I surrendered, my death was inevitable... maybe even something worse than that.

Then we heard shouting and gunshots from the other room. The lackeys behind me turned their attention to the door. Backup had already arrived. There was a chance that I could save those two.

The door blew off of its hinges. The SWAT team effectively breached the room. The debris and shock from the close proximity of the explosion incapacitated the henchmen enough for the SWAT to take them down.

I took my eyes off of the Fat Fastard for just a second. When I looked back, the other twin was already dead.

The blast caught him off guard and because of that, he unintentionally pulled the trigger while the gun was still pressed to her temple.

She died, eyes wide open.

The anguish of seeing her limp figure was only compounded by the Fat Bastard's indifference. I let out a cry at the top of my lungs, bloodthirsty and hell bent on payback. Tears streamed down my face as I pulled the trigger, but one of the members of the SWAT team pushed the gun away so it only hit the Fat Bastard's shoulder.

They both dropped down and the surviving twin was released. I didn't know what was happening around me. It was all too much. I couldn't even remember what my C.O. was saying or what sort of reprimand or punishment he intended for me. It only mattered that the remaining twin be moved to safety.

Once he was done admonishing me, I moved closer to the surviving twin as she cradled her dead sister. She let out an anguished wail. I wanted to cry with her, but everything was just numb. I looked on as she pressed the deceased twin to her chest, blood smearing all over the tattered shirt that she wore.

The other twin saw the Fat Bastard's pistol lying beside his writhing body. It was moment of clarity for me and I knew exactly what she was going to do.

She lunged for the pistol and quickly inserted the barrel in her mouth.

If only I'd been faster.

"My partner pleaded with our commanding officer to lighten the punishment for... you know... compromising the mission. I was suspended for a week. It gave me time to think about what happened."

Tsukune didn't say a word and just let her continue.

"If I hadn't let my emotions do the thinking for me, the twins would still be alive, and being rehabilitated back home. If I had only done what I was supposed to do…

Which was to do nothing.

In many ways, the source of her grief was similar to Tsukune's. So she understood him, wholeheartedly. Even now, she still tried to find excuses to justify her irrational behavior back then, even if it would only give her peace of mind.

"The only thing we could do is to live on and bear our losses. Learn from our mistakes and make peace with our past." Mizore snickered "I'm finding it difficult doing the last part though."

Tsukune merely nodded in agreement.

"You're not alone on this, Tsukune."

He was able to find solace in the newly formed bond they shared. It was a bond that only people in their line of work could understand. They've both dealt with death so it was natural for them to seek comfort and healing with one another. "So are you."

Mizore squeezed his hand. Her heart fluttered at the tenderness of it all. His stoic façade cracked a bit and it showed a glimpse of the man that he was, before all the bullshit that ruined their lives. Then she spotted the faintest of smiles at the corner of her lips.

it was the most genuine that he could muster. Mizore rested her head on his shoulder as they had already established a degree of comfort. She was pleased when he gave no sign of objection. They stayed there for a while and let the calm silence encompass them.

She wished they could stay like that forever.

Then something prevented him from fully opening up to her and they were back to square one. The distant persona took control again "You should go, Mizore." He severed the contact of their hands, which caused her to grumble in protest "You shouldn't keep them waiting for too long."

She pursed her lips "How can you be so sure that they're waiting for me?"

"Just a guess, but I heard you panting when you came in here and when you sat down, your face was flushed and you were sweating. Judging by that, it seemed that you made your way here in a hurry."

She was amazed at the level of perception he just displayed. She stood up; taking mock offence "I'll have you know that snow women are very sensitive to heat!" her face was tinted with a shade of red.

"But then again, the weather isn't actually that hot is it?" he was awfully deadpan in his delivery, which somehow irked her for real.

She tried to think of a comeback, but then her phone vibrated loudly in her pocket, effectively cutting off their burgeoning repartee. As she took it out, Tsukune caught a flash of the caller ID.

"See? Kurumu's already calling you." He smiled coolly at the pouting snow woman "You better go. I'll just stay here for a while"

She was reluctant at parting with him so abruptly. The rational girl within her knew that she still had plans for today and it would be on a different level of 'unfair' if she backed out in order to stay with him a little longer.

"Come with us." she gave him a pleading look. At the back of her mind, she was resigned to fact that the likelihood of 'no' as an answer was close to a hundred percent. Still, she tried.

"You know I can't. Not after what happened to Kurumu." His expression had a tinge of displeasure at the inherent impossibility of her request.

"Oh...right…" it would be better for him to keep his distance rather than to risk having a repeat of events with Kurumu. She started to feel a bit of resentment towards the succubus even though it felt wrong.

"I guess I'll go then." She spread out her arms, beckoning him for a casual 'long time no see' hug. His raised a brow, perplexed, as if to say 'really?'

He wrapped his strong arms around her tiny frame. For eight years, the only source of an increasing heart rate was the never ending, life threatening, and adrenaline pumping battles that he fought. It was strange that it started happening now because of a woman.

He'd almost forgotten how soft they were. He hugged her tighter, relishing the sensation of her body against his. A soft, short and completely unintentional moan escaped her lips as she felt her breast press against the chiseled physique hidden under his black shirt.

She got a whiff of his intoxicating, musky scent. The solid muscles of his broad back shifted as he breathed and she could feel every single bit of it. His rock hard arms slowly slithered down her slender waist causing her body to stiffen in a, daresay, aroused manner. Just imagine what would happen if they didn't have any clothes on.

She gripped his back, savoring the sense of strength and security it offered as she buried her face on the crook of his neck. "It was…nice seeing you, Tsukune." By then, her breathing was completely ragged.

She managed to pull away before it moved beyond the confines of a simple hug. The experience left her dazed, frustrated and… wet.

She slapped his chest and a solid, meaty 'thud' accompanied it. "Asshole…" a flustered Mizore whispered under her breath.

"What was that?" truth be told, he really heard what she said; he just got a kick out of seeing her react that way.

"It was nothing." She just remembered that Tsukune was really tall. She got on the tip of her toes and kissed him gently on the cheek, an action mostly fueled by her arousal.

"See 'ya." The sexually frustrated snow woman walked away. There was urgency in her steps, partly to get away from him.

She needed to get laid.

XXX

"I'm really sorry guys!" Mizore fervently bowed her head to mitigate the anger that her friends directed at her. She kept repeating "Sorry" until Ruby went up to her and pinched both of her cheeks. The older witch unleashed a scathing tirade like an angry mother scolding a wayward child. The snow woman comically shrunk down and could only mutter a weak and almost inaudible "schorry."

Ruby smiled at seeing Mizore's repentance and patted the younger woman on the head.

Kurumu, on the other hand, had one hell of a bitch face. Contempt was etched all over her soft features. It was a feeling that was just all too familiar with her. Jealousy, distrust, annoyance, disdain, anxiety, and many other synonyms all rolled into her clenched fist. And she wanted to clock Mizore in the face with it, just to let her know what she felt.

She didn't know why she suddenly felt that way towards the snow woman, but she didn't like it. The succubus tried her damnedest to fight off the simmering toxic emotions in her gut. There wasn't even any legitimate reason for her to feel that way, well except maybe for the long delay, but still! She breathed in through her nose, slowly filling her lungs and relaxed the tense muscles on her face. A few seconds more was enough to calm her down.

What the hell am I thinking? Fuck this!

She approached the Mizore calmly and bonked her on the head, eliciting an 'ouch' from the snow woman. Then she wrapped her in an embrace completely right after.

'Goddamnit… I hate you. I hate that I love you. I hate myself for thinking that way. I'm sorry…' The tearful succubus thought.

"Kurumu…?"

The succubus broke off the hug placed and both of her hands on Mizore's shoulders, firmly putting pressure on them.

"Hey, Snow Bitch, you're ruining a month's worth of planning." Kurumu's face was horrendously warped with frustration, complete with twitchy eyes and popping veins.

"I'm really sorry! I didn't know where I dropped my wallet!" Mizore at that point was ready to go down on her knees and beg for forgiveness. "I'll do whatever you waaaant!"

Kurumu's face returned to normal "Anything?" She shared knowing glances with each other as if there was telepathy taking place. They all nodded in agreement. Her face became twisted yet again, but it was more sinister than before.

XXX

A month before, Kurumu went to Airbnb, which was an online lodging website. She looked through the catalog for any available condominium unit for rent. She found the perfect one at the cheapest price. It even had a karaoke machine. The only rule that the host stressed on was that all guests were required to maintain the cleanliness of the unit.

But when you pair a scheming witch and a box of strong booze, it was a recipe for disaster.

Gulp

Mizore took a shot of the crisp vodka...

...Without any chasers.

Yukari grabbed the shot glass, refilled it and gave it back to the snow woman. Mizore downed the shot in less than a second. The clear liquid left a burning trail as it slid down her throat. The heat traveled to her chest and then to the pit of her stomach. Each shot elicited a throaty "Ahhh" that became more guttural after a few more rounds.

She feared she wouldn't last until the tenth shot.

...

Mizore downed the ninth shot and she gagged. Her face was flushed, but the alcohol had yet to settle in, though she already felt lightheaded and tipsy.

"Just one more!" Yukari, ever the mischievous witch, grabbed a glass –not a shot glass- but a glass and sadistically filled it all the way. "Heh heh heh…" she handed the clear poison to the snow woman.

"You're going to fucking kill me!" Mizore wholeheartedly refused with every fiber of her being.

"Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink!" as the chanting became louder, the snow woman's mental faculties got battered down slowly. She finally succumbed to the pressure, believing that the bunch of assholes would never stop until she finally drank every last drop of the burning liquid.

"Give me that!" She snatched the glass and chugged it down without pause. The gang was silent, only the sound of gulping filled the room.

"ORAAAAAA!!" Mizore went Super Saiyan and crushed the glass cup in her hand. She let loose a loud, almost monstrous yell akin to the battle cry of the most savage warriors in history. "FUCKING STRONG!"

The raucous twenty something's cheered boisterously at seeing the explosive shift from elegant female into literal monster woman.

"LET'S FUCKING DO THIS!" she twirled the bottle of vodka and shot the succubus a raging glare. "KURUMU!"

"Wha-"it all happened so fast, she couldn't even finish a sentence let alone a word. The drunken snow woman went behind her and pulled her hair down causing her to release a yelp.

"Wait! Mi-!" Mizore plugged her mouth with the bottle of vodka and poured it down her throat like a funnel. The succubus arms were flailing helplessly, but Mizore was surprisingly strong. The inebriated snow woman pulled the bottle out and Kurumu slumped on the carpet. The strong liquor that went down forcefully left her a twitching, heaping mess.

"WHO'S NEXT?"

-Shuzen Manor-

Moka Akashiya the "Silver Haired Goddess", as what many people called her, typed incessantly on the keyboard. Her office -slash- room was dimly lit; the only sources of light were the desk lamp right next to her PC and the monitor which was a tad bit bright.

She looked like the type of girl who missed a couple of showers. Her hair was a complete mess. A few strands of her silver hair even stuck to her oily cheeks. It wasn't noticeable under the anti-UV glasses that she wore, but there were dark bags under her eyes. With such an unkempt appearance one could say that she could hardly qualify as a 'goddess'.

But, damn, she was still beautiful.

She took a break from the keyboard clicking and stretched her fingers 'careful not to get Carpal Tunnel Syndrome' as they always said. She looked at the digital clock on the LED monitor.

12:53AM

She had been typing for almost eight hours and her eyes started to sting once she took of them off the screen. She slumped on her chair, nursing her growing headache.

Her usual routine was to wake up 5:30 in the AM and then settle down for a bit, check up on Kokoa on what the day held in store for her. It was mostly meetings with different families, most of the time it happened abroad. They'd usually discuss about typical vampire stuff like forming alliances and shit like that.

And for the human front, she'd meet with CEO's and other executives for possible business ventures. The Shuzen Family had century's worth of immeasurable wealth, mainly from the endeavors of the leaders that preceded her.

The family business spanned globally, ranging from housing development, to medical and technological research and even environmental preservation.

One of the richest families in the world…

And she had the unfortunate responsibility of managing it all.

Ping!

"Shit..." her moment of reprieve was cut short. The vampire grabbed her phone in mild frustration. "What now?"

[No. 1 Party Anthem - Arctic Monkeys]

It wasn't an email from anyone on the business side of her life, but from San. She opened her messenger. San's contact ID indicated that she just sent a video. Moka clicked on the attachment and waited for it to load.

"Hey, Moka! How are you?" She was greeted with the cheerful face of the Siren. There was a commotion happening in the background that forced her to speak up a few volumes.

San panned the phone camera to the rest of the crew.

"ORAAAAA!" Haiji ripped his shirt and joined a wildly drunk Mizore on top of the table while she held Ruby in a headlock. The snow woman shoved a bottle booze in the witch's mouth and started giving her the same treatment she did with Kurumu.

She moved the camera again and directed it to a blubbering Yukari chugging down a bottle of brandy while she held a microphone on the other hand. The younger slammed the bottle down and continued singing a sappy love song completely out of tune.

"Hey who're you gonna send it to?" Kurumu was heard off camera.

"I'm sending it to Moka!" the screen shook violently. The front camera turned on and it was now facing Kurumu and San.

"Hey, Moka! Ya better get yer ass heeere r-right now!" there was no doubt that the succubus was absolutely hammered. "Just kidding! We know yer buzy and all!"

"Idiots…" Moka watched the video wistfully. The vampire had been thrust far too early in the real world. She wished she could just drop everything and go there right now, like Kurumu said. Sadly, her line of work couldn't afford her the opportunity to be just a normal girl.

"We miss you Moka! We hope to see you soon!" San ended the video after waving one last time.

Three knocks came from the door. She placed the phone back on the table and cleared her throat. "Come in!"

"Big sister?" a ginger haired vampire stuck her head in. It was Kokoa Shuzen, her half-sister. The younger vampire's green eyes glowed vividly against the dark. She went in and flicked on the lights.

"AGGGGHHHH!"Moka quickly covered her eyes; the jarring transition from darkness to light was blinding. It took a while for her vision to process the bright fluorescent light. Seeing this, Kokoa switched off the light again.

"Sorry…"

Her headache grew even worse and she started massaging her temples. "What it is Kokoa?"

"About the meeting with council elders…"

"Oh…that. Can we please move it on another day? I really… really need to sleep. And please tell them that I am perfectly capable of running this family and that I really don't need a man to save me from my woes."

-Tokyo-

It was nighttime when Tsukune finally got back and once he was there, he walked down the empty hallway and dug for his keys. Then he stopped, suddenly alert and tense. The door hung slightly open. His eyes narrowed and reached for his back holster, pulling out a black 50. cal Desert Eagle. Dim light peered out of the door as he cautiously entered the room.

He flicked off the safety switch and slowly advanced down the narrow corridor of his condo unit that led to the living room. Tsukune raised the pistol, his stance and general movement were precise and tactical as if he'd been thrown back into a war zone.

He reached the corner and heard some shuffling footsteps in the living room. He closed his eyes, using the black void to determine the youki signatures of the possible hostiles. Five blobs of light appeared and out of the four of them, the one in the center was really, really powerful.

He bolted out of the corner and aimed his weapon at the intruders. The threat of conflict immediately died down as soon as he saw who they were. Tsukune lowered the pistol and pushed back the hammer.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

Fangfang Huang was relaxing on the sofa. He even had his feat placed on the glass table. Behind him were three of his Qipai wearing body guards and his right-hand woman/sister, Lingling Huang. He was the spitting image of his great-grandfather, Tohou Fuhai. One could be forgiven at mistaking him for the Dark Lord himself.

"Nice place you have here."

The ghoul placed the gun back to its holster. "Well you're the one who bought it." He sat right next to the Yasha. "But you didn't answer my question: what are you doing here?" he looked over to Fangfang's sister "Hey there, Ling." The zombie merely gave him a polite nod.

The mafia don snapped his fingers and removed his legs from the table. One of the bodyguards placed down two of bottles of beer in front of them. The caps were already removed and Fangfang wasted no time in chugging one down.

"I landed three hours ago. Knowing that you were already here I thought I'd drop by and do a little housewarming." Fangfang was smiling and it was disgustingly coy.

Tsukune glanced at the bodyguard looking outside the window- he saw that the burly man was holding a briefcase.

The ghoul quickly came to the conclusion that it wouldn't be just a simple "housewarming".

*Intermission*

-SMSC-

It was an ordinary work day in the ASFC. Officers were busy monitoring activity on missile launches and providing support for ground troops on operations. The command center was bustling as always with an order being issued here and there and the sound of simultaneous keyboard typing filled the air.

"Ma'am, USA-75 is detecting a launch." One of the officers notified his C.O. Said commanding officer quickly appeared behind him and leaned close to the monitor.

"Launch vehicle type?"

"It's an M3-SII type rocket, ma'am."

"Hmm... That's strange. The UN didn't post any notification about scheduled launches today." The monitor was currently analyzing and pinpointing the bearing and location of the launched orbital vehicle. "Did you check with ITU?" the officer on the station merely shook his head.

The International Telecommunications Union was under a UN treaty. Satellites and other objects launched into space were to be registered there and on the UNOOSA.

"Location?" the commanding officer further inquired.

The computer finished and directed the marker on the northern part of Japan. The screen visualized a dotted line trailing the trajectory of the launched vehicle as it gained optimal altitude, before quickly disappearing from the radar as if it was never there.

"What happened?"

"I don't know." The officer was left perplexed by the rocket dropping out of sight.

"Give me a feed on the nearest satellite." The CO put a hand on her hip and mumbled something under her breath. "What the hell?"

"On it, ma'am." The officer typed away on the keyboard. "The nearest satellite is KH-11; live feed coming in on 3." The CO waited in anticipation as the screen de-pixelated.

There was nothing. It took a few seconds for her to register what had just happened. She blinked a couple times just to make sure.

"Do we have playback?"

"Yes, ma'am." The officer typed a few more times on the keyboard before scooting over to the monitor interface. He flicked on a few switches and turned the center playback knob counter-clockwise.

The feed went back a few seconds before the mysterious object launched into space. The rest of the command center quickly caught on to what was happening at the particular station and watched with the same tense anticipation as their commanding officer.

Still nothing.

"Could it be a system error?"

"Running diagnostics." He typed as fast as his hands could humanly achieve. After a few seconds, all the boxes were ticked with green checks.

"All clean, ma'am." The officer on the station looked back the CO, equally confused as her.

There was sense of foreboding floating in the air.

"Get on the comm."


	3. Chapter 3

Warning: Intense, bloody violence, strong language and a scene of rape ahead.

Hired Guns

Chapter 3

Airbnb Unit- 4:37AM

Kurumu Kurono was absolutely certain that she had never met a man that was her 'destined one'. She lived her life discontent at how difficult it was to find a viable mate that met her unbelievably high standards. The two races, human and Yokai, were living in an era of advancement, both technologically and socially. Though however civilized they had become, it proved difficult to dispel one of the traits both species deemed as a hindrance to progress: the innate desire for sex.

Of course, Kurumu had her own moments where she vitiated the consent of dozens of males, though she had to admit, begrudgingly so, that nothing came out of her actions for she was still a virgin even to this day. To deny being above it all would be total hypocrisy on her part. Compared to the 'slut phase', as she called it, back in high school, Kurumu was a saint nowadays. She had a modicum of restraint that was found too virtuous in the eyes of even of the most venerable Succubi and Incubi.

Thus her nickname "The Virgin" was born.

Much to the envy of other succubi, Kurumu was always considered a natural beauty with enough potential to rival the progenitor, Lilith, herself. Most of them considered her decision to preserve her chastity as a waste of her beauty. It was a stigma in the land of the horny devils, rather than let it faze her Kurumu just said "Fuck society" and continued to live her life the way she wanted it. If she wanted to wait for the right one, her 'destined one' she would. Why let other people tell her what to do?

That's where her problems started. Kurumu had the rotten luck of being courted by men who were frighteningly consistent with their intentions to bed her, among other lascivious acts. She found it bitterly ironic that those were type of men that flocked to her when she was at her most decent and earnest in life.

But it didn't stop there. Her integration into the human world hosted a myriad of other problems for the succubus. Potential mates placed her on a pedestal, either worshiping the ground she walked on, or having lewd designs for her enough to be considered heinous crimes against chastity. A whiff of her scent or a simple brushing of shoulders were enough to elicit such vicious arousal and unmitigated bliss that Kurumu found herself running for her dear life rather than savoring all the attention that she normally would have liked.

It was more subdued than before, but Kurumu was still an attention whore at heart. She secretly relished the attention directed to her, but strictly limited it too stares of awe when she was in the vicinity. She had no tolerance for the clingy, pushy types. And certainly not for those who were too abrasive in their methods. Kurumu, in the end, was still the virtuous gal after all.

Call her old fashioned, but she believed in real love. Love that lasted for ages and love that lasted beyond death. Though at times, she considered her options with settling down with anyone that could barely meet the minimum of her standards out of fear that she would die lonely. Alas she stuck by her convictions… and her nickname.

With all that said, she was certain with every fiber of her existence that she had never come across anyone that was her destined one.

But when she woke up sucking the air as if it were the last breath that she would ever take, the seeds of doubt were planted in her mind. Had she really? It took a moment for her vision to adjust in the darkness. Then she remembered that they were all having a reunion.

She felt a general feeling of discomfort due to the disgusting layer of stickiness that seemed to cover her skin. It wasn't just that, but she felt her cheeks also share the same sentiments. She wiped her face, it was wet and salty. Had she been crying, she thought?

She slowly pushed herself off from the carpet rug that she and her friend had unintentionally used as a sleeping mat. Bottles of empty liquor were piled up into a corner. At least they had the decency to clean up before settling down, she thought. If it were a video game, Kurumu would be considered as the "First Blood" after a drunken Mizore sent her down a trip to the land of the wasted.

Her chapped lips quivered and her throat was parched; her saliva was thick and sticky as well. Those were sure signs of the drinker's bane: dehydration. She made her way to the kitchen while cradling her belly. Alcohol still ran rampantly in her system so she was still as intoxicated before she went down, but she still had a degree of awareness.

It was the simultaneous sensation of being slowly tortured by a throbbing headache, being shriveled as a dessert, and excessive dry heaving that made her wish that a crack in the great earth would swallow her whole just to end her misery.

"Fuck me…" the succubus slurred. She opened the fridge and grabbed a one liter bottle of water. The cool liquid slid down her throat like rain giving life to the crops. She chugged it down greedily without pausing for breath. And like a silent assassin, a sharp migraine hit her out of nowhere. She leaned on the marble counter, barely able to support herself.

Kurumu had to take a one year break from her studies after falling into a coma due to a very serious illness- an 'illness' that even her mother, Ageha, would not disclose to her no matter how hard she pried.

By the time she returned to the Academy, her friends had already graduated and leading their own lives. It was the loneliest that she ever felt. She found difficulty in fostering friendships with people who already had their own adventures and their own circles. Even though she tried going around possible cliques, none of them compared to the camaraderie she shared with the original Newspaper Club. She became the exact opposite of what she was in her first two years. If it weren't for her mother, Ageha, and the constant communication with Mizore and Ruby, she would've given up a long time ago.

She told herself that friendship was merely part of the journey. What she really should be aiming for was that diploma.

Resolute and with newfound strength, she thought that maybe she could survive the year. That is until the dreams started happening. Every night as she entered the deepest state of sleep, a man appeared. He was handsome, tall and well built. At first she thought it was her repressed sexual desires after enduring three years of slaving through homework and projects. But as the nights continued, the dreams became more pronounced, more real.

Rather than just being a man against a black backdrop, events gradually started playing in her mind. Events that were unknown to her, yet felt so familiar that she knew everything that was going to occur. It confused and frustrated her that no amount of research or rummaging through school records could identify the man that plagued her dreams.

There were days that it stopped; like the worst of it was over. But they were merely cooling periods for even more intense relapses. She sought help from her mother and her friends. She understood that they were busy in work and in their studies in university, but they were the only ones who could possibly understand her plight.

It was easy for them to tell her that her dreams were just that: dreams. She loathed their indifference. It almost sent her spiraling down in a pit of sorrow.

Kurumu refused to contact them any further and isolated herself. She wrote down all her dreams frantically trying to piece together everything like a crazed conspiracist. It came to a point that she had already abandoned school and her health.

Upon forceful entry into therapy, courtesy of her mother, and yet another break from school, the dreams ceased to continue. But she still experienced the anxiety and hesitation every time before closing her eyes. As time passed, it allowed her mind to adjust to the belief that the dreams were never coming back. Those times were but a distant memory to her for she had nothing but peaceful nights for the last eight years.

That is until she met the mysterious man in back at the cemetery.

Kurumu's knees buckled and she collapsed on the floor, clutching her chest from the dull ache spreading across it. The pain in her chest became unbearable with each resounding beat of her heart. Fluctuating between rage and incredible sadness, she smashed her fists on the tile floor. The sharp sting of what felt like unrequited love had hit her with mechanical precision. She felt wounded and utterly broken, what made it even worse was that she had no definite understanding as to why she should feel that way.

Suddenly images and memories of the time unknown to her flashed briskly through her mind in epileptic fashion. She screamed in pain from the overload. "Tsukune! Who's Tsukune goddammit!" She continued to fruitlessly slam her fists on the tile floor, even though it had become slick with her tears and blood.

But then the images slowed to crawl till it landed on a very specific scene. Unlike the frantic bombardment of sights she experienced earlier, this was serene, Gaussian in quality, and painfully romantic in portrayal. It was a kiss… And the man from her dreams was there, only this time his skin was jet black and hard to the touch, as if it was made from the most durable materials on earth. His hair was bone white and his eyes were blank with a piercing red glow that evoked a sense of rabid nature.

But rather than becoming scared stiff, she pitied him. There was turmoil hidden in those red orbs of his; a conflict between the blood coursing through his veins which reeked of the death of millions and the pure soul of a young man trying to regain possession of his worldly vessel. Regardless of the monstrosity in front of her, she deepened the kiss, pouring every ounce of her love over to him.

Once they pulled apart, she saw it. The love that she so desperately yearned for was very clear and present in his eyes.

If only it was directed at her.

Rather than being a participant she found herself watching the scene unfold from an unsuspecting corner. It was the same man but in his arms was a beautiful woman; a statuesque stunner with long, silver hair that flowed with the wind. The couple shared a gaze that spoke volumes of the love they had for each other. Then they leaned in for a kiss…

Kurumu, filled with poisonous jealousy, bellowed with rage as the image of the couple got seared at the back of her mind. She kept on hitting the floor until wet cracks echoed throughout the kitchen.

The crew, awakened by the noise, turned on the lights and quickly moved in to restrain her. Mizore wrapped her in a hold to prevent her from turning her fists into bloody stumps. "Kurumu! Kurumu stop!" The succubus writhed in her hold. Mizore's strong, muscled arms managed to subdue the succubus' violent thrashing and soon her strength faded as well as her resistance. Her display of rage slowly descended into heart-rending sobs.

"Shh…shhhh…It's okay. You're okay." Mizore gently stroked the top of Kurumu's head. Her breathing had become normal, her muscular tremors had decreased and, sniffles aside, she was relatively calmer. As the crew bathed in the quiet aftermath of her weeping, Mizore let her eyes drift down to her wounded hands with an expression that bespoke of relief and worry.

"Ruby, please check if there are any med kits lying around." She calmly ordered. The older witch nodded in affirmation. Kurumu, lightheaded from the weeping sank down further into Mizore's arms. After a few seconds of reflection, she started sobbing again, not from the pain of her broken knuckles, but from the sheer confusion of her ordeal. Mizore held her tighter "It's okay… it's okay…" and kept whispering word of comfort to her ear.

"What the fuck is wrong with me?"

~~~

3:54PM

Fearing for her mental stability, the crew offered to stay with her for the rest of the day. However, Kurumu was stubbornly adamant that she wanted to be alone and away from the rest of civilization. She was absolutely embarrassed at how explosive her outburst had been. She hated herself for causing so much trouble for her friends like she did back in high school. Kurumu felt completely drained, physically and emotionally and her body just shut down after the incident. She woke up late in the afternoon. Her friends had been lounging around after cancelling all of their planned activities for the day.

She promptly left the Airbnb unit despite vocal protests from Ruby and Yukari. They even locked the door so that she couldn't escape. Kurumu apologized to them, saying that she just really, really wanted to be left alone. She flew out of the window in her true form. Realizing that it was only a matter of time before a human would have been able to see her wings, she landed on the nearest building rooftop she could find and made her way down. Some guards were understandably cautious as to how she ended up on the top floor of an office building without proper security clearance. Kurumu simply used 'Charm' to defuse the situation and continued down until she reached the exit and out to a surprisingly empty street.

Before losing consciousness, Yukari applied magical potions on her broken knuckles before wrapping them up in bandages. It would take a few hours for the wounds to heal and even longer for the broken bones to mend back together. Kurumu hid her bandaged hands in her coat pockets once she saw incoming civilians. She already caused such a stir earlier that she didn't want to be the subject of more intrigue. She hailed a cab and got in. The ride was about half an hour long and she drifted in and out of consciousness. The driver hesitantly spoke louder to notify her that they had arrived at the condominium, careful at not sounding too rude. Kurumu apologized and paid the fare.

She was immediately greeted by the security guards and some of the unit owners after stepping into the lobby. Kurumu was a fairly popular figure within the condominium's community. Most of the residents knew about her even if they didn't watch her films. It wasn't everyday that you get to live right next to a rising celebrity. Once she got past the trial of politely exchanging nods, she got on the elevator and punched in the button for the 7th floor. She wanted nothing more to do than to lock herself up in her unit and sleep the day away or maybe binge something on Netflix.

The swift ascent made her woozy, most likely from the remnants of the alcohol. "Sleep" she nodded "Yeah… sleep sounds good."

Once the doors opened and the familiar chime rang, she hastily stepped out of the tight confines of the elevator. She fished for her keys while she walked over to her room numbered '704'. In front of the door, she muttered expletives as she rummaged through her incredibly deep and messy purse. Come on damnit! She didn't have the strength nor patience to deal with any shit right now. She felt something sharp and metallic at the very bottom hidden under a pile of makeup and used wet wipes.

"Found it!"

Mere seconds later, the knob of the 703rd room turned. She curiously tilted her head. The room was just recently vacated. She waited to see who the new tenant-slash-neighbor was before unlocking her door. Much to her surprise and disbelief, it was the same man she met back at the cemetery. She was frozen in place and every external sensation felt numb. Her mind was in frenzied panic and her heart was racing furiously.

She had seen enough Korean dramas to know where this was going.

It only took him a moment to notice that his neighbor was staring oddly at him. She dropped her keys once they made eye contact. Kurumu gulped; everything about him was different from the man she met yesterday. His eyes were sharper, his body language was stiffer and he had a perceptible air of frigidness as cool as the spring wind. The black trench coat he wore plus the white shirt and tie combo only added more to his dashing looks. It reminded her of the dapper gentlemen of old and she admitted that this side of him somehow felt dangerously attractive.

Tsukune on the other hand… well he was rightfully annoyed. The notion of a quiet and isolated life instantly got shattered the moment he laid eyes on her and vice versa. Not only that, but his presence also posed a significant threat to her physically as well as mentally. In addition, he knew how violently persistent Kurumu was towards the things that caught her fancy. He couldn't allow himself to be involved with her any further than this one chance encounter. It was a risk he wasn't willing to take. As soon as he got back, he would petition to move to a different location. Boss or not, Fangfang would also get a taste of his mind. This was far too convenient for a simple coincidence, Tsukune thought.

While he was preoccupied with various ways on settling this frustrating situation, Kurumu fidgeted at the sustained eyeballing and tried her best to avoid his piercing gaze. It managed to turn her on and terrify her at the same time. He really wasn't like the relaxed and aloof fellow yesterday.

"H-Hi…So… we're neighbors huh?" there was a slight tremble to her voice.

Her mouth hung open as she watched her neighbor wordlessly turn around. Her failed attempt at small talk left a burning gash that would surely leave a mark. There was nothing more painful and humiliating than to be left hanging in the air. It felt like being hit with a shotgun pointblank.

Kurumu thought it was rude but she was visibly saddened by his sudden frosty persona. There wasn't even a simple 'hey' or any other form of greeting. She could tell that he wasn't happy to see her, much less found her company a pleasant surprise, given the look he gave her and his poorly hidden eagerness to leave. Most men would at least try to flirt with her, but the way he ignored her as if she was a mere nuisance struck a blow in her pride.

She didn't even get to ask his name.

Kurumu sighed in defeat; there was no point in going after people like him. She felt stupidly naïve in that she even considered giving him a housewarming gift or something like that.

"Asshole." She shook her head in disappointment "Forget about him Kurumu."

The succubus bent down and snagged the keys with her finger and then tried to unlock her door, but the slightest pressure on her hand sent a jolt of sharp pain coursing through her. She had underestimated the extent of damage she had done to her knuckles. Just because the pain had stop doesn't mean it was completely gone. She tried for a second time with her left hand, but could only insert the key for a few centimeters before the pain took over again. The subject regarding her neighbor was far from her mind now, replaced with the unbelievably difficult task of opening her fucking door. The thought of breaking it down certainly crossed her mind.

"Damn it!" The keys slipped from her hands. It really wasn't Kurumu's day. In a fit of blind rage Kurumu slammed the side of her balled fist on the door. She regretted the idiotic move not a second later when the impact shook the recuperating bones of her knuckles and dislocated wrist. She wanted to scream out in pain but she held it in. A pained whimper escaped from her tightly clenched teeth instead.

Tsukune heard Kurumu fumble with her keys and it went on till he was a few feet from the elevator. He was already at odds with his conscience at how to deal with this unnecessary baggage; the sound of constant jingling didn't help. His irritation peaked when he heard a loud 'thud'. He turned around visibly irked, but his irritation got washed away instantly.

She looked vulnerable, nursing that injured hand. Her hair, though short, was messy and oily. Her eyes were bloodshot and there were faint trails of mascara on her cheeks. She was deathly pail, though you wouldn't notice it from the blood pooling on her face. She had a shit day, he could tell that much.

Perhaps… he was too callous back there. Kurumu was still his friend, even if she couldn't remember him. She was a nice girl; warm and friendly, totally undeserving of such treatment. He wouldn't want to be another addition to one of her 'bad days'. He was fully aware that he had contributed a great deal to the pain she had to endure. His look softened and the cold wall of his crumbled. The two locked eyes once again. Kurumu pursed her lips and looked away, still pissed.

Just this one time, he thought. It was the least he could do as a human (ghoul) who had questionable decency. The succubus snuck a glance. Her heart sprung back to life once she saw his slightly worried visage. What's with this man? Why does he make her feel things?! She tried putting up a tough front. After all she wasn't an easy woman. It eventually started chipping away as he got closer and by time he was in front of her, she was back to being as giddy as before.

He reached for the keys and showed it to her. He shuffled through them; there must've been at least five keys. Who knows what the other keys opened. Tsukune towered over her diminutive frame and she could only tilt her head up to meet his eyes. She was utterly mortified that her rapidly beating heart could be heard within earshot. He presented her a black key with almost the same texture and grooves as his. He opened the door upon a nod of affirmation from her.

He let go of the knob and removed the keys, handing it to her in one suave move. It was all so fast that she realized he was already gone before she could've said her thanks.

Maybe he wasn't the asshole that she thought he was. She smiled and went inside her condo.

But then a thought hit her:

"Should I tell Mizore?"

~~~

Tsukune never expected to have a run in again with Kurumu after visiting the cemetery. So he let it slide the first time, thinking that the chances of stumbling into her path were slim but not impossible. Maybe he'd run into her while in the grocery store, or at a bar. At least he could keep up a façade so that she'd never know who he really was. He could even ditch her after such meetings and never show his face again.

But to live right next to her…it opened up so many possibilities that would probably end in misery for the both of them. He ran a hand through his hair and swept it to the side. He grumbled a few unintelligible words before breathing in deeply to regain his composure. He'd think about the 'Kurumu Problem' later. The elevator reached the basement parking 'A' and he exited. There were so many freaking cars, but his was easy to spot so he didn't exert much effort in finding it. Tsukune pulled out his car keys and unlocked his vehicle remotely.

It was a black 1992 twin turbo Toyota Supra JZA70 MK3 complete with pop-up headlights and a removable top for windy, open drives. Tsukune got in and started the car. The thunderous roar it made upon ignition indicated that the car's engine had been swapped with a souped-up 2JZ rather than the 1JZ. It was truly a powerful beast, one that could make incredible highway pulls. Though the car had a boxy body shape that screamed late 80's, it still had its own intimidating charm that could rival any pony or muscle car.

It was a surprise that inside the hard edged vehicle was filled with creature comforts, such as padded, three-way adjustable bucket seats and various types of suspension for optimal driving. It also had a digital dash for the tachometer, speedometer along with regular analog ones for the boost gauge, water, etc… One could only wonder why Tsukune would pick such a car when he had enough resources to buy a Nissan GTR.

Tsukune put it into first gear and stepped on the gas.

~~~

Shinjuku District, Tokyo- 8:49PM

Alan Yu, a middle aged man, sat alone in his dimly lit restaurant, bloody and beaten to a pulp. A few weeks ago, he, along with his wife, Hui Yin and their three lovely daughters, legally immigrated to Japan from Hong Kong hoping to start a new life. They found a quaint little place in the bustling district of Shinjuku that was up for grabs after the previous tenants went bankrupt.

The restaurant, in its infancy, was a hit with the locals and the salary men who wanted a taste of Hong Kong. The family was composed of polite, hardworking people- always giving the customers bright smiles and great services. One night, as the last customer waved at them and thanked them for the food, Alan looked at his wife lovingly, thankful that everything went well. There was still room for precaution, but they played it safe and went with the flow accordingly.

And then last night happened…

The man sat across an empty table with a bottle of whiskey in his right hand and an almost burnt our cigarette on the right. The restaurant that they lovingly built was in shambles. Windows were smashed; china and other plates were shattered along the tile floors and tables were either wrecked or flipped over. Not to mention the bullet holes that lined the walls. He didn't even bother trying to clean the dried up blood that coated the floor.

Flies were buzzing around his bandaged knee; the wound was probably festering down there. But he didn't care.

Alan stared into nothingness. He was more of a living statue than a man. Tears streamed down his bloody cheeks, but he didn't seem to register them and only continued idly drinking the whisky. His ears twitched when he heard the bells chime as the door to the shop opened.

"Get out." He said, never taking off his eyes from the void he was staring at. His voice was hoarse and dry from his excessive smoking. Somebody must've been stupid enough not to see the dire state of his restaurant. He heard footsteps and they were closing in on him despite stepping on broken glass and porcelain. This guy really doesn't get it, huh?

"I said get the fuck out!" he pulled out a pistol and aimed it at the intruder. At first he only saw a silhouette as his vision was already clouded with his own blood. Then a pair of glowing red eyes peered through the dark.

"Are you seriously turning down a regular customer?" the man said coldly with hints of sarcasm.

Alan lowered the gun as he saw the so called 'intruder' "Mr. Aono?"

"Do you know why I'm here, Alan?"

Tsukune waited for a reply but gave up rather quickly. He sat across the broken man and leaned back on the chair. He scanned the surroundings, taking in all the details before going back to Alan. "You could've told us you were moving to Japan. Instead you decide to run off without telling anyone a goddamned word. We could've provided protection for your family." Tsukune observed the numerous bruises and wounds that adorned Alan's features. The man's face twisted sardonically at the word 'protection'. The Huang Family was the very thing they needed to get away and be protected from the most.

"Don't you understand? I wanted out! I don't want my family involved with your business anymore Mr. Aono." He was suddenly livid. There was thick bile that rose up his throat, sourly bitter. "My daughters are growing up and my eldest was going to have a family of her own. I didn't want my grand-kids to inherit a fucking weapons cache."

The ghoul's face was unreadable, but he still listened intently on what Alan's reasons were. The broken man was starting to weep; his words became garbled from the tears and spittle. Tsukune let the man release his pent up anger and frustration. "I really wanted to live my life in peace… away from the bloodshed that followed the Family. You'll understand Tsukune Aono, you'll understand once you get a taste of freedom."

Alan had been part of the Huang Family for so long, that he couldn't remember a day when he didn't handle the weapons the that they illegally smuggled and hid in his restaurant back in Hong Kong. He lived his life as a merchant of death, but when he held the life he had created with the woman he loved, everything changed. He saw it as a chance for redemption, but in the end, all the sins he committed eventually dragged him down.

Tsukune pitied the man. He had known him to be the tough-as-nails arms dealer of the Huang Family. But to see him desperately cling to the idea of a normal, peaceful life...He didn't know if his pity was born from the sheer naivety of his delusions or that he himself had the same delusions.

"Tell me, Alan… how's life on the other side?" Tsukune asked earnestly.

The broken man had already stopped weeping and wiped the tears off of his face. Alan smiled bitterly "Better than anything men like us deserve. But you wouldn't understand, would you, Tsukune Aono? The loyal dog that you are…" He was barely fazed even when he heard the sound of a pistol hammer being pushed back down. Instead a look of resignation was apparent in his face.

Tsukune aimed his silenced Berretta 92FS between Alan's eyes.

"On second thought, before I do you in, Alan, tell me what happened here. I only got the gist of it from Fangfang but I want the details." Tsukune placed the pistol down on the table.

~~~

A few weeks ago

It started the first week we moved here. At first, only a couple of guys would go in and demand payment for the 'protection fee', but it was nothing a little bit of 12 gauge buckshot couldn't handle.

They stopped coming here after I showed them that my family and I weren't taking any of their shit. A few days later, a scrawny, bucktoothed punk started coming here. Let's call him Weasel. Everyday he'd look at my eldest daughter, Hui Mi, with the eyes of an animal in heat. I only warned him, but since he didn't do anything yet, I let it slide. And then his visits became more frequent and he became more aggressive with the way he treated my daughter. Then it turned into full blown sexual harassment. I moved in to straighten him out but the eldest's husband got to him first. He beat the motherfucker within an inch of his life and he ran away with his tail between his legs.

The husband's name was Johnny Yuen and he was the best son-in-law that a father could have. He was once a waiter in this restaurant and there were times that I caught him and my daughter stealing some knowing glances. I knew from then on that something was up between them. Like any normal father, I had my doubts and concerns, but after seeing the man's sincerity and humbleness, I let him court my daughter.

After they got married, Johnny found work here in Japan as a car salesman. He got promoted rather quickly to Branch Manager. He had an even better deal going for him when the family moved here so that his wife could be with him. I saw a bright future for them and it was the happiest that I ever felt, especially when I learned that my daughter was already eight weeks pregnant.

~~~

Last Night

Last night was another fine time for work as there was a steady flow of cash coming in and dishes coming out. My wife was busy counting the money we made, while my daughters were cleaning the tables and the plates. Johnny, being a dutiful son-in-law, mopped the floor. He already had a job of his own, but he always helped out with the business whenever he had the time. God bless him.

Then the same band of thugs brazenly went inside my restaurant as if they owned the place. This time, they brought their fifteen of their buddies with them. I calmly told them to leave and that I would not pay their 'protection fees'. They didn't show any signs of backing down, so I was quick to draw a gun and so were my wife and Johnny. I told my daughters to go upstairs. However, my eldest daughter was, regrettably, at the wrong place when the thugs went in. She was the closest to the door and they already had a gun pointed at her before I knew it.

We dropped our guns. We didn't want anything to happen to my daughter and grandchild. The goons surrounded us and kicked the back of knees so that were down on the floor. Then I saw him- the fucking Weasel that my son-in-law bodied, smiling triumphantly from the rear. Payback, huh? I thought.

He had this disgusting smirk that led to so many unsavory implications. It took everything I had not to do anything rash. They shut down the metal store shutters and I knew that shit would go down from there.

They brutally battered Johnny like he did with the Weasel. Blood covered every inch of his face as he dropped on the floor, twitching with the little life he had left. His eyes were almost swollen shut and his lips looked like they were stung with a hundred bees. My daughter started screaming hysterically and one of the goons whipped her with a pistol. It was enough of a reason for me to jump them, but they shot out one of my kneecaps. It leaked like a fucking faucet, and I howled in pain.

My wife tried to retaliate and got a few good hits in but they considered a threat and gunned her down. I saw my wife's lifeless body slump down right in front of me. Shock held me in a vice like grip. Then the Weasel started violently stripping my daughter. She fought back with all her might. I screamed and begged them to stop all of this, but they didn't listen.

They silenced me with the butt of a shotgun. It dislocated my jaw and I could only watch as they took turns in violating her. The Weasel then ordered the rest of his men to go upstairs and 'collect' the rest of my daughters.

Her screams miraculously gave Johnny a jolt of adrenaline. He rose with all the fervor of crazed, bloodthirsty warrior. He lashed out wildly and viciously while they were vulnerable at having there dicks out. It gave me an opening. I grabbed a pistol on the floor and started blasting away. The pain effectively hindered my aim, but I managed to fatally hit some of them.

I heard gunshots upstairs and the dead bodies of the goons that were sent there rolled down the stairs like a bunch of lifeless rag-dolls. My daughters went down armed with Benelli M3's. Their participation in the commotion almost handed us control of the situation. While Johnny tried getting to his wife, I laid down suppressive fire. Even when a bullet went through my shoulder I kept firing.

It was chaotic and explosive. The first, real firefight I had in years. We lost the advantage when my daughters ran out of shells. Before I knew it, Johnny was also hit in the stomach. My pistol clicked, dry. My younger daughters were overpowered and knocked out by the thugs and Johnny… well not much was left of Johhny's head. The Weasel took advantage of the fact the he was incapacitated and smashed his head in with a broken table leg till his brains were splattered all over the floor.

The Weasel aimed for my head. The fucking idiot thought it was surely a headshot, but it just grazed my temple. That was the last thing that I saw before I blacked out.

When I came to, a crowd had already gathered outside the store as well as reporters. Police were doing investigations inside, but then I heard one of the cops talking about "eliminating any possible survivors."

They were fucking cleaners; probably paid off by the mob. While they weren't looking I managed to escape to the hidden storage basement that this shop had. I didn't know how I pulled it off but as you can see I'm still alive.

~~~

Present

Tsukune, satisfied upon hearing the entirety of the events that occurred, stood up and aimed the pistol at Alan with almost no trace of sympathy. He had the eyes of a dead man, cold and hollow. He pulled back the hammer unflinchingly like he had done so a million times.

Alan knew this was coming. He had to face the harsh reality that the peaceful life he always wanted would always end with him staring down the barrel of a gun.

The life that they led, it followed them maliciously. It was relentless in its pursuit, never stopping until it had dragged them back down one way or another.

You can bury it all you want. But it will keep coming. Always.

He was just a man, unlike Tsukune and Fangfang who had abilities far surpassing anything he had ever seen in his life. He truly felt the limitations of being human when compared to the monster in front of him. What can he do? He will never beat Tsukune in his state, even if he did, even if he reached the best possible outcome where he managed to rescue his daughters, the Family will go after him.

His thoughts go back to his captured daughters, his dead wife and his dead son-in-law. Alan was at a complete loss. At his core he was a world weary individual, but the time he spent with his family taught him to look for the silver lining in every bad situation; to try and be optimistic whenever he can. It proved helpful in starting their restaurant. He felt that would be able to live life at its fullest with that mindset. But the very foundation of such idealism crumbled down and he was back to square one, maybe even lower than that.

He only had one shot.

With resignation, he sighed. ""Before you kill me…" He bowed his head and placed both of his hands flat on the table. He would've gotten on both knees, but it was the best that he could do, given the situation. "Please…please save my family." His life was already forfeit. But there was a chance for his family to get away from this nightmare.

His daughters… his sweet girls… were all that's left. He would do anything, even if it meant killing himself so that they could have a chance of happiness that was robbed of him.

The unwavering grip that Tsukune had on the pistol started to falter.

"I don't care what happens to me anymore, Tsukune. Please, for a friend, please… I beg of you...save my family!"

"You're pathetic." Tsukune reigned himself in, eyes passionately burning "You would even ask a stranger to save your family? You really don't deserve your life."

Tsukune pulled the trigger and fired four shots.

The Supra sped across the streets with blazing speed. He ignored all the hails from the cops that were on his tail. He was skilled enough behind to the wheel to completely lose them. And he did it all as if it were a second nature to him.

His eyes were complete glazed over with murderous intent. It was in the way he drove the car that revealed the resolve hidden under his otherwise stoic facade. The inline-six engine deafeningly roared along the streets of Roppongi.

~~~

Inagawa-Kai, Roppongi Branch- 3:50AM

In a small three-floor office building was one of the Inagawa-Kai's branches. The building was dilapidated both in and out, except for the boss' main office, which was neatly furnished. It had everything, from smooth wooden floors to the basic amenities and entertainment. It was a serious contrast to the scenery outside of its double doors. The building had long and narrow corridors with offices on each side. Dust accumulated on the very four corners, the paint on the walls was peeling off and the general scent of the place reeked of something dank. Aside from being a branch of the Yakuza, the building also doubled as a makeshift apartment complex for the members inside. They used the abandoned offices as their living quarters so they would be readily available if the need for them arose.

"Boss, what do you plan to do with them?"

"Break 'em then we sell 'em." Weasel, whose real name was Keita Shinohara, was in the process of shooting up heroin. The needle pierced the thick vein along his forearm and pumped the narcotic deep in his bloodstream. The heroin numbed the pain from a stray bullet that grazed his rib. He felt a rush of euphoria as he sunk back down on the sofa of his office.

"That hit the fucking spot."

The girls; Hui Mi, Zhi Zhi, and Ru Shi were tied up and gagged in a corner, unconscious and drugged. Weasel had intended to sell them off to the black market. But he would get to taste them first. They were very beautiful women with soft, smooth and supple skin- natural beauties that were going to cost a fortune. He glanced to his side, to where the girls were, mental faculties heavily clouded by the junk. He remembered fucking the eldest back at the restaurant while her husband and father watched. It was the type of power that he loved getting drunk on.

A bulge formed on the crotch of his pants. He started rubbing it until it became rock solid. He pulled out his erected dick and gave it long strokes. Keita stared at the eldest daughter maliciously while he jacked-off. He craved for an encore with the object of his unbridled lust.

His right hand man directed his gaze somewhere else, the image of his boss' schlong was the last thing he wanted to see. Fucking disgusting he, thought.

"Yagi, bring her to me."

"W-what?"

"I said fucking bring her to me!" He aimed his gun towards his right-hand man and fired a shot which narrowly missed its target. Fear overtook the man and quickly carried off the eldest daughter and placed her on the sofa right beside Keita.

Keita took a momentary pause to tear the remnants of her tattered clothes. His dick throbbed with excitement as he molested the unconscious woman. He started laughing maniacally as he reached all new levels of arousal and elation. Once he was done with her, the other two were next.

~~~

A goon dressed in typical yakuza garb went out from one of the improvised rooms on the second floor. He had a lit cigar in his mouth and was probably planning on finishing it outside. There was brief flicker of the lights, which was not an unusual occurrence given the state of the building. It was only then that he noticed a man standing at the far end of the hallway. He was clad in black Spec Ops gear sans the helmet, protective eye cover and insignias. The only form of concealment he wore was a black tactical face mask that covered the lower half of his face- from the nose down to his chin.

The lights blinked intermittently. The goon swore he saw a pair of red eyes glowing in the fleeting moments of darkness. He spotted the suppressed Berretta 92FS that the man held in his hand "Hey! What the fuck are you doing here?"

A silenced bullet hit him straight in the head. The 9mm round went through his skull and hit the wall. Brain matter dripped down paint-like. One of the goons must have heard the commotion- maybe from the sound of a dead body hitting the floor.

"Oy, Miyamoto! What's the-"

Another shot hit him in the eye. His body fell down, but not before hitting the still open wooden door. It slammed against the wall in the opposite direction rather than its intended door frame. The sound alerted the rest of the tenant in the other rooms.

One by one they emerged from the makeshift rooms and a bullet was reserved for each one of them. They all fell limp and lifeless. They were quick, clean kills. Men like them probably deserved slower and messier deaths, but time wasn't a thing that he could afford.

He continued, bearing the Central Axis Relock system. It was deadly efficient method of shooting that made encounters in tight, narrow corridors or close quarter combat easier. It was much a preferred system than the isosceles stance because it was designed so that the user could quickly aim between targets while in motion, but used in conjunction with each other they were perfect for any combat scenario; long rage to mid range for the isosceles, up close and personal for the CAR.

He reached yet another set of double doors at the opposite end of the hall. On the other side was a staircase. He took a moment to survey the surroundings before going up. At exactly the same time, three men were also going down. He wasted no time and lunged for them in a split second. Tsukune hastily disarmed them of their weapons and incapacitated them with Jiujitsu takedowns.

One of the goons aimed for Tsukune, but he sidestepped and right hooked the goon's wrist. A stray shot was fired and it alerted the rest of the tenants of the building. Tsukune, in a swift motion, grabbed the back of the goon's head and slammed it on the wall. While the goon's head was still pinned, Tsukune clenched his right fist and delivered a devastating punch the snapped the goon's neck like a twig. He saw the rest of the henchmen writhing about on the ground and gave them each a bullet to the head.

It took dozens of dead bodies and suspicious radio silence for them to notice that a crusader had stormed the castle. Weasel was unnerved at the sudden radio chatter happening among his men.

"What's happening over there?!" he was sweating profusely, hand trembling wildly. Immediately his penis became flaccid as fear dragged him out if his high. It had the same effects of a cold shower. Thankfully he hadn't done any more damage to the eldest daughter by that time.

"We're being breached!" there were gunshots and pained groaning in the background. Any more of that and he was sure to piss himself.

"Are they cops?!" Static was his only reply. He shakily set down the radio and looked towards his right-hand man face twisted with terror and confusion as if looking for guidance.

~~~

Tsukune reached the 3rd and final floor only this time, they were waiting for him. Twenty-two men converged on the narrow hallway that lead up to the boss' office, standing as the penultimate obstacle in his bloody path. They seemed seriously underfunded. He expected them to each have a gun in their hands, but they only had knives and katanas.

He had already exhausted three clips of his berretta by that time. One was already loaded in the gun with about seven or eight rounds, and he had one more magazine tucked away in his tactical belt. He planned to save the last clip and not use it on the lowly cannon fodder.

They had their numbers. He was only one man. The odds were against him. But they failed to take in one single detail.

This narrow corridor was never meant to be overcrowded.

Tsukune shot the eight rounds with lightning speed. Eight rounds for eight heads. The bottleneck advantage had effectively withered their ranks. He dropped his magazine for a reload, but three henchmen went for him at the same time. One luckily knocked the gun out of his hand and he was forced to resort on his fists.

His blows were hard and fast. Each punch felt like being smashed with a jackhammer at full speed. His finger-less gloves already had steel-tipped knuckles and it only added to the inhumanly destructive power of his hits.

The henchmen were surprisingly fast. He was already surrounded on both sides, so he went on the defensive. They didn't give him the chance to draw out his knife or reload his gun. Tsukune slammed his fist to one of the bruiser's gut and blood spewed out his mouth violently. One of the thugs attempted to stab him the front, but Tsukune was quick to react. He opened one of the doors and used it as an improvised shield. The knife got stuck on the wooden door and Tsukune used it as an opportunity for breathing space. He kicked the door and sent it flying off of its hinges along with the thugs behind it.

The kick created an ample amount of distance between him and the goons. He rolled up his sleeves and cracked his knuckles.

"If you want to preserve the two years of life you have left, just remember Tsukune: no Youki." Fangfang's words echoed through his mind in an inopportune time.

He pulled out a pair of O-Tantos from his ankle sheaths. Tsukune went for a knife stance, like a coiled snake ready to strike. He bolted straight for the crowd, giving them no time to react. He ran across the wall and landed in the very center of their formation. He weaved through their swipes effortlessly and rapidly slashed his knives at their ankles, abdomens and necks.

He swept his head under a punch and gave the goon three quick stabs in the abdomen. Blood poured out like faucets. A henchman managed to luckily pierce through the open area Tsukune's tactical vest along his shoulder. The pain was numbed by the sheer amount of adrenaline pumping through his veins. He quickly pulled it out and returned the knife to its owner. He jammed the knife in henchman's ear and threw a rage-filled uppercut. His neck got inverted violently and the wet cracks of bone echoed along the hall.

In the midst of the tumultuous chaos, Tsukune lost both of knives and ended up scavenging of off the dead bodies. The wound on his shoulder only added fuel to the fire. He wanted to end them rather quickly, but his ghoul instincts started kicking in. There was a noticeable change in the way he killed the men. The quick jabs and slices were replaced with violent, messy thrusts. He became more brutal instead of efficient.

They were down to two men. Tsukune dodged the knives with blinding speed. He disarmed one of the henchmen by twisting the poor bastard's arm until the bones poked out. He grabbed the knife and deeply embedded it at the side of thug's neck. The last of the men charged at him, Tsukune pulled out the knife and slashed the man's throat.

While he was in a berserk state, some of the the thugs landed a few good cuts on his arms and legs, but they weren't fatal. Tsukune shrugged it off and loaded the pistol's last magazine.

~~~

Behind those double doors were five men, the Weasel and the girls. The two younger sisters were still knocked out, but the eldest had already regained consciousness and was buck naked. The boss hid behind her and used her as a meat shield. He was useless in her eyes now and he could always get more girls.

Hui Mi squirmed and struggled to free herself from his grasps. The girl had already suffered so much pain and humiliation from their heinous violations. She begged him to let her and her sisters go, but her pleas fell on deaf ears.

He reached his boiling point from her constant pleading "Shut the fuck the up!" he shouted to her ear.

They heard the door creak open ever so slightly. The men focused their attentions on the door, tense and rattled. They haphazardly opened fire with their pistols and shotguns. The bullets decimated the wood like it was a piece of paper. Sharp splinters flew around as they continued their barrage until they went empty.

Wrong move.

An M84 stun-grenade rolled down on one of the holes of the door. A flash of blinding white light erupted in the room. The concussion from the blast wracked and overloaded every sensory nerve in their bodies. They momentarily lost their vision from the blast. Their bodies were incapacitated and they stumbled around the room like drunks trying to regain their footing.

Tsukune breached the room and fired five well aimed shots. No bullets were wasted and the henchmen went down without a fight. His method of shooting his opponents always started by firing body shots, so that when they recoil from the pain, their heads were exposed, but he didn't really need to exert much effort. If he had done so, it felt like he would have overdone it.

Only Keita Shinohara was left. He was still hobbling around the room, trying to make sense on what the fuck just happened. The scrawny man found himself a shotgun on the floor and aimed it at Tsukune. The ghoul nonchalantly wrenched it out of his hold. Tsukune shot a round on Keita's kneecap. It didn't have the same results with a 9mm round. It was bloodier and messier. The buckshot eviscerated the meat and bone of his knee.

The scrawny bastard always acted tough. But the moment he came face to face with true pain, he folded rather quickly like the pussy he was. He let out a bloodcurdling scream from having his leg blown to smithereens by 12 gauge shells. He thrashed pathetically on the floor like an earthworm dying from salt.

Tsukune saw the state of the sisters and decided that a man like Keita deserved a painful death. It was the first time that Tsukune felt so much rage directed at another living human being. He was the professional that always meant business. But after seeing the torment inflicted on these innocents… it felt like a dam broke. Instead of water, it was more like a torrent of hellfire.

The first punch had a meaty crunch to it. The second made a wet cracking noise. The ghoul pummeled him till his face was caved in and didn't even resemble a face anymore. When he was done, nothing was left of the Weasel's head but red mush and fragments of broken skull, maybe an eyeball here and a tooth there.

Hui Mi was still suffering from the effects of the stun grenade, but she witnessed the display of pure wrath happen in front of her. His blood splattered face and his glowing red eyes made him look like a demon. She felt terror crawl up her spine, a natural reaction to such a frightening sight. Tsukune removed his face mask and slowly approached her to calm her down.

"Mr. Aono…?"

"Yeah… It's me."

She had known Tsukune for a long time. From the day he first stepped into her father's shop, she felt something different about this man. He was a reliable man, dedicated to his job, and was surprisingly silent most of the time. Tsukune would go to the restaurant and discuss with her father about business, maybe even grab a bite or two. Their relationship was initially confined to customer-waiter. But she mustered up the strength to start a conversation and the rest was history.

The number of times they had meaningful talks can be counted with both hands, but she still considered him a dear friend.

Her mother and husband were dead. To top it off, she was viciously raped in front of her family. The torment she underwent almost broke her. She was an inch closer from being completely swallowed whole by pitch black darkness. Then Tsukune came for her, salvation in the form of a white knight dressed in black, and pulled her out of the depths of her despair.

The deaths of her loved ones only managed to sink in completely after being rescued. All the tears that she held in burst from the pressure. She leaped into his arms and clung to him tightly like he was about to disappear any second. She cried like there was no tomorrow, hyperventilating even. Tsukune felt her trembling in his arms and held on to her tightly, allowing her to vent all the rage, sadness and grave indignation that threatened to consume her soul.

As he remained silent, his thoughts go back to his encounter with Alan.

~~~

Tsukune fired four shots.

But Alan was still alive. He searched his body for bullet holes, but he felt none. He looked back at the ghoul, utterly confused as to why his life was spared.

"Your life belongs to me now, Alan."

"B-but what about the boss?! What would he do if he found out you didn't go through with it?!" Alan still couldn't believe what was happening. Should he be grateful? Should he be scared that the possibility of even more unsympathetic individuals would make an attempt on his life? But there was one thing that he was sure of: a chance for his daughters to be saved.

"I'll handle him." Tsukune flipped the safety switch back on and holstered the gun. "I will use you as I see fit. You will be under my command now."

Alan stared at him with terrified awe. Apprehension managed to ensnare him in a suffocating coil. What does this man plan to do with him?

"I'm ordering you…to live."Tsukune turned around "You're no use to your daughters if you're dead."

Alan bowed his head completely overwhelmed with emotion.

"Don't worry. I'll get them back."

~~~

Tsukune removed his bullet proof vest and wrapped it around the sobbing woman. He looked at her unconscious sisters and smiled. They were safe now. He willingly made a lifelong commitment: Alan Yu's family will be under his protection from now on. He would personally deal with the rest that would soon follow.

"Let's go home."

A/N: Well that was a long chapter. I hope you had fun reading this as much I did while writing it. If you like, or if you have any constructive criticism, please leave a review and subscribe! Thank you to all for the reviews! Luv ya all!

Imagine Kurumu with a pixie cut that had 3 months of growth time lol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Well that was a long chapter. I hope you had fun reading this as much I did while writing it. If you like, or if you have any constructive criticism, please leave a review and subscribe! Thank you to all for the reviews! Luv ya all!
> 
> Imagine Kurumu with a pixie cut that had 3 months of growth time lol
> 
> I'm only really getting the hang of ao3's format now. I wrote this with ff.net in mind so i had trobule adjusting at first


	4. Chapter 4

Hired Guns

Chapter 4

In an isolated, neutral territory off the coast of Japan was a privately owned oil platform. Eight years ago, the oil company had a shift in ownership once a certain influential family had bought the rights to it. Fast forward to the present and it ran like it always used to. As if there had never been a change at all. It was standard fare. A huge, floating metal island with the bottom fixated to the ocean floor for the purpose of drilling the earth's most sought after resources. If it were to be described with the words of a ten year old: it looked like a big, complicated Lego assembly in the middle of the sea.

There was nothing unique about it. It was really just a simple oilrig complete with the towering giraffe-like crane used for moving containers and etcetera. All the necessary papers, certificates, licenses and other approvals were filed neatly. The platform was inspected by the Japanese government 7 days a week to ensure that all safety standards were met. All in all, to put more emphasis on its total nondescript nature, the government never seemed to place significant attention to it, because for them it was just a simple, plain, honest-to-god oilrig.

It all went according to plan.

Right next to the drill, at the deepest trenches of the ocean, was the Shuzen Group Pharmaceuticals highly classified Genetics Division "B". Covered with adaptive, reflective panels that moved like it had a life of its own, the state-of-the-art facility was hidden away from the prying hands of the world governments. The facility had a staff of more than three hundred personnel. There purpose was shady at best, but their intentions were noble. They must've been the 'ends justify the means' type of people.

It was rather self-explanatory at that point. How can you not be shady if you're working deep in the ocean and having very transparent intentions to keep your work a secret?

In the main laboratory, Moka Akashiya stood alone on the observation deck. Her very presence was like a blinding light in pitch black darkness. She radiated elegance, a natural aura befitting of a queen like herself. Her graceful, commanding aura could be wholly felt within the large laboratory and it only pressured the staff to work their asses off even more.

"You've already been part of my life for so long…"

She lightly slammed her fist on the huge observation window. It was directed at the titanic monstrosity lying dormant in a large dome-like prison that was made from the hardest, materials known to earth. Its main purpose was to separate the ocean's water from the couple metric tons of blessed holy water that the creature was submerged in like a demonic pickle.

Alucard, the first Shinso, was carefully guarded under a coalition of Ayashi states while they searched for a solution to their immortal problem. The sea water only managed to immobilize the beast, but it wasn't enough to completely end the terror and dread that followed it. Alive and pulsating with deep hatred, it was only a matter of time before the titanium shackles that bound it to the earth would break.

"I'm getting sick and tired of you. Give us something. Anything. How the hell do we kill you?" her voice had a tinge of desperation and morbid curiosity. From the day she was born, a link had been formed with the sleeping abomination- a link that she wanted to break free from. There were times that she cursed ever being brought into this world, but she also took it as a sign that she was meant to be death's emissary for the titan.

If there was one thing she was sure of, if she failed to destroy Alucard, the next generation of Shuzen vampires will finish the job. Such was the fate of those whose blood they shared.

A woman in white approached the pensive vampire. She had tan skin and long, blonde hair. It looked liked her hair had been recently rebonded for it fell down on her shoulders silkily and bounced along with every confident step that she took. The white gown with the thigh-high slit was something straight out of a fairy tale. And her exotic features wouldn't look out of place in one either.

"Moka…"

"Kahlua" the silver-haired vampire further acknowledged the presence of her older sister with a nod.

~~~~~

"What are her chances for recovery, sister?"

"It's still too early to say. We're still running some tests on her." Kahlua replied with almost no trace of emotion in her voice.

Akasha Bloodriver, the previous queen of the vampires, floated weightlessly in a stasis tank filled with red plasma while being suspended with thin tubes injected across her body. Her long, rapunzel-like hair danced around in the fluid and the red glow emanating from the tank coupled with the dimly lit surrounding made her look more like an otherworldly angel.

As a result of being one with Alucard for years, she had basically become an extension of the beast. Monstrous tendrils sprouted out of her body. She had extra lets of grotesque limbs coming out from places that were never meant for them. Deformed red eyes lined her misshapen forearms and legs. She was an oxymoronic creature, an abomination like the beast she was pulled out from, yet a bizarre beauty with the way her delicate features contrasted the fleshy, timorous growths that adorned her body.

The state of her mother left Moka disheartened. The prospect of recovery seemed moot at that point. Akasha had already been absorbed by Alucard for so long, that it was nigh impossible to distinguish their individual biological and genetic traits.

Moka could only look on wistfully as fleeting moments of her stolen childhood flashed before her eyes. She never had a decent role model on how to be the upstanding woman she turned out in the end. It was all on her. It would be a lie to say that no one guided her growing up, but that guidance completely fell short. She remembered the days when she was in the very corner of a classroom, isolated and taunted, with no memory of who she was and desperately longing for a reason on why the gods above left her alone without the warm embrace that only a mother could give.

Even as a grown woman, Moka felt like the little, lonely girl every time she saw her mother in that stasis tank. It felt odd and embarrassing that such a strong woman like herself felt loneliness even when she was surrounded by her sisters and millions of supporters.

She was close with her half-sisters. She grew up with them, played with them, but there was always something that still made her feel singled out and different. It could've been from Gyokuro's treatment or the complete sisterly bond that Kahlua and Kokoa shared. Akuha, though a helpful and warm addition to her life, was overly attached and off-putting.

But Akasha was different. What they had between them was a special bond that would never break. The pink haired vampire was the only one who showed her the sacrifice and love that only a mother would give to her children. Even in the moment of absolute despair as the literal jaws of death threatened to swallow her whole, Akasha, with her unwavering devotion, took her place.

Moka gently planted her palm on the glass with nothing but fragile hope to keep her going.

"Ma'am?" a voice, light in pitch, wrenched her out of reflective state. It was a frail and lanky looking man who was in dire need of protein- the type of guy who never even held a girl's hand or the type of guy where the only source of praise came from his mother. He approached her meekly, shakily even. Moka could tell that it took the man every ounce of his will to approach her without having to piss himself.

She wondered how a guy like him ended up in one the most top secret areas on earth. The man handed her a white folder, gave a curt bow and left without saying a word. She eyed the white piece of stiff paper with slight hesitation even though she was the one who personally requested the file.

The contents of the first page of the three paged file read:

Name: Tsukune Aono  
Age: 24  
Blood Type: AB+  
Rank: Sergeant  
-Yokai Defense Force – 226th Battalion  
-Special Tactics and Operations  
-Squad Leader: "B" Unit

Status: MIA

Pasted on the upper right of the file was a 2x2 photo of Tsukune in his military suit. In the file, it detailed the numerous commendations he received and his acts of valor during the Ayashi Civil War. Among said decorations included pistol and rifle marksmanship awards, close quarter combat awards, meritorious awards, a Purple Heart amongst other personal decorations. The YDF was closely modeled after an amalgamation of their human counterparts, so the awards bore many similarities.

She leafed through the pages and landed on the assorted photos of him on the field. He was dirty and wounded, but he stood dignified-yet-detached in the harsh war-torn land piled with the deceased bodies of his fellow soldiers.

Moka was ashamed that she couldn't even plea busyness as an excuse for not finding out more of his current status. The guilt of what she had done to him only held her back. And frankly, she wouldn't know what to do if she ever got the chance to see him face to face.

"Kahlua. What's the status on A-56?"

"Still unstable. We need more time and test subjects."

A-56, along with guarding Alucard, was the main reason why Genetics Division "B" was highly concealed from the public. Personally funded by Moka herself, the team handling A-56 was part of the darker, more morally disreputable aspects of the pharmaceutical group.

"I'll give you all that you need. But how long is this going to take?" Moka's tone grew slightly impatient.

"Three years maybe more."

"We don't have three years." Moka couldn't believe the words she heard. After all the funding and allocation of resources to this damned sector, they really needed more time?

Kahlua felt a vein pop in her forehead. They already had this argument dozens of times, but none of her explanations seemed to break through Moka's thick wall of ignorance. She had been patient with her little sister's demands but a little more nudging would be enough to send the blonde vampire raging.

"Have you forgotten about A-38?! Do you really want another repeat of the 'St. Luke's Incident'?"

After witnessing such horrors with her own eyes, Moka had become numb to the ugliness that the world had to offer. But the mere mention of the 'St. Lukes Massacre' was enough to twist her haughty expression into regret.

Moka's shocked and offended visage was a clear 'No'.

"I guess not. If you want your conscience to be clear of any doubt, let me do my job. I don't even see the point of all this. How do you even know if he's still alive?"

The incident was light compared to the things she had to go through. But it was undoubtedly her first foray into the realm of illegal science. And it scarred her deeply as much as the survivors of the incident. Tsukune's involvement only gave her more reasons for self-condemnation.

Rather than scrapping A-56 and dooming her ex-lover to his fate, Moka saw their unlikely connection as the only thing that kept the whole project moving forward. Through their "Blood Link" she had numerous bouts of depression and rage, sometimes even a combination of both. But it was a sign that he was still alive and it was all that she needed.

She didn't know if she did out of love, guilt or a sense of indebtedness as the lines separating them got blurred, but she was determined to see it through.

"He's alive… it might sound strange but I could feel him. He's out there somewhere and we need to find him before his time runs out."

\--Roppongi, Tokyo - 5:56AM--

A Special Assault Team vehicle sped along the dead quiet streets of Tokyo's Roppongi District. The squad of ten sat face to face in complete total silence as they got closer to their destination. They were all dressed for battle, rifles in between their legs, barrels pointing up and ready for war.

Mizore loosened the tight collar of her black tactical suit. A drop of sweat rolled down her temple from the heat and her well hidden fear. She hoped for a smooth and eventless mission, but it seemed unlikely. She took one last weapon check for her suppressed M4 Carbine fitted with a red dot sight. She pressed the magazine release, checked for loaded rounds and slapped the magazine back in. The Snow Woman racked the bolt of the weapon and set it back down.

She looked at the rest of her squad mates who all had the same expressions as her. She lowered her head, lips moving as if reciting something. They were getting close now. The van's speed reduced, she gripped her gun and steeled herself. This was it.

Two doors swung open and they all leaped from the vehicle. They went inside the lobby of the three-floor office building, advancing swiftly like black clad avengers. The squad split into two groups, one for the sublevels and the other for the upper levels. Team A reached a staircase that led to the second floor and went up. They didn't expect much when they went through those double doors. Maybe opposition and small arms fire, things that they were already used to.

But it looks like somebody got there first.

"What the fuck happened here?" Mizore mumbled.

Six or seven bodies of men lay slumped and sprawled over the walls and the floor. The lack of bullet casings within their vicinity meant that somebody finished them off before they even got off a round and judging from their condition, the method of elimination seemed quick and clean- no unnecessary cruelty, it even looked professional.

A surly, forty-something old man called "Sarge" tapped his comm to radio Team B. He was the eldest of the squad and was coincidentally the one who commanded the most respect. "Team leader, status?" He had a deep, gravelly voice most likely from the three pack o' Marlboro's a day.

We're entering sublevel 'A'. Nothing new yet, Sarge."

"Roger. Keep me posted. Out." With that, they resumed radio silence.

Team A reached the third floor. There they found even more bloody corpses littering the tight narrow corridor. There were at least twenty-two men on the ground and their stiff, rigor mortised bodies left very little room for the squad to step on. They navigated through the terrain of death with care in their steps as if they would step on a landmine.

"Sarge, we got eyes up here." Mizore notified her commander after spotting one of the cameras. The CCTV's were small and barely visible, blending well with the ceiling. If it weren't for the blinking red light, the cameras might've gone completely unnoticed.

"Let's hope it captured all the action." The team continued while the other two at the back cleared each room that they passed. Some of the doors were left half-open, and another one was completely blown off its hinges. There were knives and swords gleaming crimson in the dark. The kills were messier this time and lacked the focus and precision compared to the ones they saw at the second level.

Mizore spotted a trail of bloody footprints going in the direction of one of the rooms. She stood by the door, finger on the trigger. She readied her weapon and took a deep breath. The snow woman kicked the door down. There was a man inside- bleeding profusely and scared shitless. In his hand was a shotgun… and it was directed at her.

"You monster!" he screamed at the top of his lungs.

She ducked and narrowly missed the shotgun blast that ripped a ten inch hole off the drywall. She returned fire; five rounds of 5.56 pounded him in the chest. He fell, twitching with his last breaths. The surge of adrenaline went to her head, making her dizzy. Mizore sat against the wall, gasping for air, relieved and terrified at her sudden brush with death.

"You hit?" Sarge and the rest of the team rushed to her and secure the area.

"I'm good." A man in his mid-twenties helped her up. He had a youthful, typical 'boy-next-door' face. Tetsuya Sato, Mizore's partner.

Monster? She got a feeling that whatever did all this wasn't human.

The team pushed forward until they reached the office at the end of the hallway. Mizore and her partner took point. They cleared the room and gave the 'all clear' sign. There was no sign of life. All of them were dead, including one who looked like roadkill.

Mizore gagged at the unrecognizable lump of bloody brain matter, skull fragment, teeth and dislodged eyeballs that were a person's head. Sato actually went through with it and ran to the nearest trash can.

"Jesus. Fucking. Christ!" Sato exclaimed in between expelling the contents of his stomach. Sugimoto, the tallest (and quietest) of the team stood guard by the office entrance while Kanzaki looked around for any accounting books that may have been hidden.

After Sato was done, he took a moment to wipe off the remnants of his sausage breakfast from the corners of his mouth and went over behind the desk. He booted up the PC that had a triple monitor setup.

"Nakazato, status?" Sarge removed his face mask and radioed the leader of Team B.

Brief static was his only reply but then a garbled voice broke through "Found their lab, Sarge. Also found three crates of sealed heroin in here. Hostages are secure, all four of them."

"You know what to do. Follow standard procedure and get those girls to the paramedics. Out."

"Copy that."

Mizore overheard the radio chatter and took a long sigh of relief, knowing that the kidnapped girls were brought to safety. Every time victims were rescued from such a cruel fate, a little part of her soul had been saved along with them. She wouldn't stop there, not until she had found the peace to quell the turmoil in her heart. At the same time, she wouldn't want the pain to end as it served as a constant reminder of what she lost and who she failed.

She leaned on the wall and removed her helmet. Her spiky, purple hair had been tied up neatly in bun as to avoid being a liability. They were granted a moment of reprieve. With the place secure, it afforded them the opportunity to ease up a bit. It was far from the eventless mission that she had hoped for, but it was good enough.

Aside from the mountain of paper work that was sure to follow, she was thankful that someone already took care of the scumbags that resided in the building. A younger, wide-eyed and righteous Mizore would've gone completely by-the-book. She knew that eliminating felons with extreme prejudice went against the code of due process. Such thoughts were unbecoming of those in their profession, but she was already jaded to let idealism get the better of her. If it made the job easier and the world a safer place, she wouldn't have it any other way.

"Sarge, I found their video feeds." Sato continues to type on the keyboard for tech reasons.

"Alright, let's wrap this up. Sato save the recordings on a hard drive, we'll watch them later back at HQ. Let's have the SIT deal with this shit."

\--Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department- Organized Crime Division - 10:07AM--

In a glass office separated from the activity-filled command center, the rest of the squad sat around a conference table, waiting for Sato to transfer the contents of the USB to a department provided laptop. At his back were two of the people he respected the most, Sarge and Mizore.

The man noticed that Mizore was leaning far too closely, he stiffened, trying his hardest not to blush. But how can anyone not blush? Mizore was like a dream come true for men like him. She was a hardcore beauty- passionate, dedicated and tough to the bone. And she was very silent and somewhat distant. Only a chosen few would get her to speak more than a couple sentences. It only added more to the fantasies the men in their group had running in their minds.

"Shirayuki, if you lean that close to me I'm gonna fall in love with you."

His remark earned him a well-deserved slap on the back of his head. Mizore casually moved farther away from him and scooted over to Sarge.

"Is it done yet?" Sarge grew slightly impatient.

"It is now."

The wall mounted 55 inch LED TV lit up. The recording started playing and it showed a rather intense staredown between a man clad in Spec Ops gear and a Yakuza thug. The team was silent in their anticipation. Suddenly the thug's head got blown out by a silenced bullet. And then another thug exited the room, and then another and another. They started dropping like flies with lethal precision.

"Could he be military?" Mizore asked.

"No tags. No insignias. He must be an enforcer or a hitman from a rival organization. Play the rest of the tapes." Sarge with his dated terms, slightly confused Sato on what he meant for 'tapes', but quickly caught on.

They switched to another file. This time, the assailant engaged more than the twenty plus henchmen in close quarter combat. He moved at an inhuman speed, dodging knife and sword swings like it was a game set on the easiest difficulty. They all marveled at the sheer skill presented on the screen. Mizore on the other hand felt a tinge of unease when she saw the movements of their mystery man. It looked familiar, as if she saw that fighting style personally.

"This guy's good." They all looked at Sarge with quiet disbelief. He was already known to be the surly old veteran who was notoriously hard to please.

"I'm guessing he's a mercenary. Judging from his tactical gear, he's former Spec Ops, maybe even J-SOC." Sato wanted to make a bet, but relented at having to remember that he already lost on a previous one to Mizore.

"Could be." Sarge took a worried glance at Mizore who was at a complete loss for words. One could even say that she rather looked nervous.

"Shirayuki, you all right?"

His deep voice brought her out her funk. Mizore merely nodded in response and continued watching the video.

Sato clicked on the video recording for the office. It started off with Keita Shinohara and the rest of his goons laying waste to a complete innocent door. But then they noticed that there were three other girls that were unaccounted for. Two were unconscious and while the other was naked and being used as shield.

"Wait… they were only four hostages, right? Who're these other girls?" Sato, being the chatterbox continued asking questions.

Sarge came to a realization, like puzzle pieces falling into place. But held his words should his theory be proven true. It wasn't his first time seeing the video, but he still discovered new things with each viewing.

They watched the remainder of the video in total silence. The scene arrived at the boss' brutal demise. But they were unfazed by the violence. The man took off his mask as he approached the cowering woman, but the CCTV's angle made it impossible to see his face.

"Come on… turn around… turn around…" Sato mumbled. Like a bittersweet closing to a movie, the man calmly embraced the weeping woman and placed his bulletproof vest over her naked body. He replaced his face mask and directly glared at the CCTV as if breaking the fourth wall. The video ended after he aimed his suppressed Beretta.

Sarge went up front and carried with him a thick stack of white folders. He dropped it on the table, the crew eyeing the stacks curiously. Without his helmet on, he looked like an imperial commander. His hair was parted perfectly, he had a gruff exterior and his posture was straight like a posh gentleman with a stiff upper lip.

"There has been an all time high of drug and trafficking related cases in the past years. Criminal organizations have been operating more frequently and aggressively out in the open. The higher ups are already getting desperate to get the situation under control without having the Commission on Human Rights hound their asses.

"Now, this brings us to our next problem." Sarge held up the palm-sized remote to the TV. "Huang Fangfang arrived on Japanese soil yesterday via private jet. We suspect that his arrival has riled the families that run the underground scene here in Japan. In addition, we also suspect that he brought his 'businesses' with him. For now, we will only keep our eyes on him. Any further actions are to be determined by the panel."

Mizore's tensed upon hearing Fangfang's name. It all seemed too convenient. The day after he arrived, a branch of a well known Yakuza organization was thoroughly eliminated. Could they be connected, she thought?

"The actions of this 'Mr. Black' along with the appearance of Huang have greatly tipped the balance and stability of the criminal underworld.

"We heavily anticipate that a conflict between the ruling families will erupt on the streets, and once it does, we have been granted full authorization to use any means necessary to crack down on their operations. That means we're going in under the radar on this one. Until then, when conducting raids, we follow standard operating procedure. If you have any more inquiries, all of them will be answered in the full debriefing here." With that finisher, he patted the stacks as if it were his own pet cat.

"Distribute this to the rest." He muttered to the nearest operative. Sarge waited until all of them had a folder.

"You are dismissed."

They all stood in unison, obviously eager to get the hell out of there, not allowing the chance for downtime to pass.

Mizore walked towards the exit in a daze. The sounds of the conversing operatives were muffled, like a thick piece of cotton had been jammed into her ears. The time she dreaded had finally arrived. A conflict with the Huang Family was inevitable the moment she signed her life away on that dotted line. She knew things that she thought were better left unsaid about the Huang Family. Even though she knew deep down, all accusations of the crimes they committed were true, she still saw them as the protectors of the peace between the human and yokai realms.

They had various connections and the family was powerful and highly influential. What would happen if they suddenly declared war on the human race? It would be in their best interests not to make enemies out of them. Especially now, with how the family took a sharp descent deeper into the underworld.

Yet here they were.

All the thoughts circling around her head made her feel even dizzier. She was so cut off with the rest of reality that she hadn't noticed that Sato had been calling out to her dozens of times already.

"Mizore!"

Broken from her trance-like musing, Mizore could only utter a simple "huh?"

"Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah. What's up?" She perked up a bit after realizing that she had been zoning out.

I… uh… asked if you wanted to hang out later."

Mizore, who possessed an outwardly dense 'harem MC' style going for her, was actually the sharpest one in the room only second to Sarge. The operatives weren't the only ones who saw all the sparkles and floating hearts.

"Oh… uh…" she remembered something. It seemed important judging by the look of her face. The room was dead silent in anticipation; even Sarge took part in watching the scene unfold. Only thing they needed was popcorn.

"I'm sorry. I have a date."

Sato felt that a little part of him died that day. He could only smile through the pain. He slowly, torturously cracked a smile that went past Mizore's notice. "Oh… Okay… have fun! Take care!" his eye twitched all the while. The other operatives were watching in the sideline, tried their hardest to keep their mouths shut and not burst out laughing.

Mizore nodded and exited the room. Once he was left hanging in the air. The whole room erupted with boisterous laughter like a pressurized container that reached its limit. His attraction to Mizore was the department's worst kept secret after all. They went to him and patted him on the back, seeing that it was his first 'real' attempt at going for a serious relationship- though Sato wasn't sure if they were reassuring him or thanking him for the laugh.

Sarge just shook his head in disbelief. He'd have to remind Sato that fraternization wasn't allowed in his team.

\--Room 703 – 5:37AM--

Tsukune tossed and turned in bed, drenched in sweat, wearing nothing but black boxer briefs that hugged his toned bottom. On his neck was a silver chain that held his "proof of service" or dog tags together with a broken, familiar looking Rosario. His chest rose erratically, causing the trinkets to jingle and slide to the side.

Poorly wrapped bandages covered the areas where he had been injured- mainly his arms, back and thighs. The loose dressing allowed droplets of his blood to spill over the mattress. It'd be one hell of a laundry nightmare. The fresh wounds he sustained from his little rescue operation were already healing by that time, but they were susceptible to reopen should he ever go outside the marginalized movement required.

His ripped body was put into display- a walking collection of scars with a bit of ink thrown in the mix. On his right deltoid was the YDF's 226th Battalion insignia and on his left forearm was a minimalist tattoo of the Latin phrase 'nemo malus felix'. It was almost a surprise with how little his body had been engraved given his work for the Mafia and his service in the military.

His heavy eyes struggled to lift open. Everything was disjointed as consciousness started seeping back into him. Not even a coherent though could form. His vampiric nature allowed him to see better in his darkly lit room, but blurriness still danced at the edge of his eyes. He squinted hard. The mental strain from just trying to get a clearer picture hurt, he'd rather not open his eyes at all. But there was a reason why he was taken from dreamland. The squinting paid off and he saw a pair of black silhouettes standing at the foot of his bed. He pulled out the suppressed 92FS tucked underneath his pillow- a move as automatic as the beating of his heart. As soon as he had them in his iron sights, they disappeared into thin air. One of them appeared to his right. He was given no time to react before he was unceremoniously knocked out with a punch that almost broke his jaw.

~~~~~~

The sweet, metallic scent of blood filled his nostrils. He shivered intensely as the floor was freezer cold, but at the same time he couldn't move. It was a feeling that he was all too accustomed to. It didn't take him long to realize that he was back in China. He'd been there numerous times, but he was never on the receiving end of the 'special treatment' they gave their prisoners. He was sprawled on his back, the biting cold threatening to eat away his skin. A dull pain shot up his jaw. It was like the loud alarm clock that always ruined your mornings. You fucking hate it, but it always got the job done. That was one way Tsukune described pain.

And like the alarm clock, it reminded him how he got into this situation. From behind his shut eyelids, he felt a bright beam of light shine directly in front of his face. He regained control of his limbs; he tried it out with his fingers, lightly moving them one by one. There he noticed that he wasn't tied up or anything. Wrong move. He sprung up violently from the cold floor, ready for another go at his captors, fangs bared to the fullest. Numerous guns simultaneously greeted him from all sides, point blank. But it didn't mitigate his rage in the slightest, especially when he saw one incredibly smug looking face.

"Hey there, Tsukune." Ryota Sakurai smiled, sporting a set of similar fangs, only longer. He had enough plastic in his personality to pollute the ocean. He was a tall, handsome man with raven-black hair spiked up in a faux-hawk do. But he looked mightily haughty, which otherwise ruined his perfectly good looks. It was like his head was a balloon- inflated with a sense of toxic superiority. Out of all the men that had their weapons trained at Tsukune, he was the only one who held a Nodachi. The man pressed the weapon further into Tsukune's neck, enough to sting, but not enough to draw blood.

"I see you got promoted."

"Well, I heard that you were retiring so I had no choice but to step up my game." The way he worded it seemed like he didn't have a choice. The apparent glee brimming from his face told another story.

He stood up slowly, the guns trailing his every move. Even though they were all dressed in black, they had features that distinguished them from one another. He looked to his right: a Hispanic-looking bespectacled man, carrying a suppressed M4.

"I guess you won't be treating me to that beer you owe me, huh Alvaro?"

The man looked up from his red-dot optics with a face that spelled regret. "No, sir." He glanced to his side, to where Ryota was and visibly stiffened. He had no room sympathy now, especially under the new management.

Tsukune looked at his left to where a young, twenty-something lad carried a chrome plated Desert Eagle. He had a buzz cut and he looked young, but he had the stone-cold visage of a veteran. "You're standing too close, Jun-Shik, you're open for a disarming." It was a moment of realization for the young man. He took a step back with a bittersweet smile on his lips. Even now, he still took notes from his mentor.

To his front was a bald man who had Asian features. He looked like a shaolin monk. On his right hand was a silenced USP and other, crossed below his dominant hand, was tactical knife held in a reverse grip. "Chao, you're stance is slightly off. I might be able to throw you off balance." The man was momentarily surprised, but he nonetheless agreed and shifted his position.

At Ryota's side was a beautiful woman who had hair as black as her clothes. She wore a combination of a tight fitting leather jacket and leather pants that accentuated her voluptuously healthy figure. Her skin was porcelain-like, but not to the point that it was pale. Her eyes were sharp and her face was completely unreadable. But the slight quiver in her supposedly unwavering grip screamed otherwise. Tsukune only looked at her and could only offer an understanding smile.

Enough of this shit, Tsukune!" Ryota shouted. The vampire pressed his blade deeper until a thin line of blood slid down the ghoul's neck. He didn't realize that he had already stepped on the landmine planted at the end of Tsukune's patience. Ryota pulled back the blade and thrust it at Tsukune. "Don't go you go soft on us you fucking wimp!" He was already tired of playing the sympathy games. He wanted nothing more than to end this foolish charade.

Inches from being brutally impaled, Tsukune sidestepped and grabbed the sword. Ryota had no time to react and was pulled along with the blade. Like a car running at full speed on the wrong lane, his face collided with Tsukune's fist. The vampire was sent flying across the holding cell, with a rooster trail of blood and teeth spewing out of his mouth.

His back slammed on the metal bars, hard enough for them to bend. The impact of the punch parted their formation like Moses separating the red sea. It happened all so fast that they didn't have the time to take in the shock. They re-aimed their weapons at the ghoul. That momentary lapse of judgment would never happen again. They were so busy handling their sentimental attachments to their former leader that they forgot that he was the target. But Tsukune noticed something: he was already open like a book, why would they not open fire?

Their hands quivered while they aimed. Hesitation was clear on their faces. It was obvious that none of them wanted to pull the trigger. Tsukune looked at the men surrounding him. He did train them after all. They only got to where they were under his tutelage. The ghoul felt a swell of pride and guilt at seeing how they all turned out. From fresh faced greenhorns to a cohesive unit of hardened killers. But they weren't incapable of feeling warmth. As much as they learned under him, they also had a bond that only a battlefield could forge.

But it wasn't the time for that. "Remember what I told you?"

They didn't answer.

"In the event that you find yourself emotionally compromised…"

"Calm your nerves. Steel your hearts. It's only a job." They all said collectively. It was a mantra that members of their profession lived by. Reciting it only seemed to make them even more disinclined for a second. But they shook it off as if his words were a confirmation on his final order as their superior. The sole female of the group shook her head in disbelief and disappointment. She broke out of formation and leaned on the wall, fully intending to act as a mere spectator.

At the very back to where Ryota was launched, Tsukune saw him rise like the undead creatures that they were. His body contorted unnaturally with a feral, animalistic intensity. "Tsu…Ku…Ne…" his voice was already distorted from the rising levels of dark youki encircling him like a vortex made of bat wings. Ryota's eyes were glazed with the bloodlust inherent in their race.

They all had the killing intent in their eyes- the same ones he had when he first took this god-forsaken job.

"Good." This was it. He wasn't their mentor or their friend anymore. He smiled wickedly ear-to-ear as black veins started crawling on the sides of his neck, with all the vigor of a malignant, all-consuming entity. His irises bled a deep shade of crimson and his pupils thinned into cat-like slits. The youki he emitted had an overflowing hostility that managed to push the squad a few steps back- their primordial instinct of flight kicking in at sensing the extreme danger.

Bright sparks of electricity traveled along his forearms. Circuit-like patterns embedded on his arms lit up like a Christmas tree with a bright blue glow. Magic circles formed on his wrists. If he were ever going to use his Youki, now would be the best of times.

Ryota lunged forward with the ferocity of an animal out for blood. The squad slowly squeezed their triggers. The hammers of some of the pistols started pulling back, ready to blast the lead rounds in their chambers. Everything slowed down. He never really intended to fight them. They just needed the little push. Tsukune closed his eyes in resignation and accepted his fate.

A hand grabbed the back of Ryota's head, halting his charge, but he flailed around even after being lifted off the ground. He fought back like an animal caught in a trap, but the owner of the arm stood his ground. The hand tightly squeezed Ryota's head, fingers digging into his skull, and slammed him on the floor hard enough to form a crater. It was brutal but it knocked back some sense into the wild vampire. The squad spun around, weapons ready at the unexpected retaliation. Their eyes widened in shock and they immediately lowered their weapons and bowed.

"Ease down, everyone." Huang Fangfang stood before them personally. They all bowed in his presence as he walked closer to Tsukune. He held up an outstretched palm to the bald guy, Chao. The man gave him a pistol. He pulled back the slide for a brass check and aimed the gun at Tsukune. The ghoul cleverly hid the relief on his face with a sardonic smile.

"Hold him." The yasha commanded. Jun-Shik and Alvaro apologetically moved to restrain both of his arms.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Why is it you ask me that every fucking time? Have you no respect for me anymore?" Fangfang whipped Tsukune in the face with the pistol's grip. He spat out a thick wad of phlegm and blood. He looked back at Fangfang, defiance in his eyes. The yasha drove his fist on Tsukune's gut and continued to pound him with the pistol until his mouth leaked of blood like a running faucet. The woman looked away, unable to stomach Tsukune's beating. He sagged against his tethers, almost fainting from the immense pain.

The yasha grabbed a handful of the man's hair and lifted up his head. His brows furrowed at his apparent failure to wipe off the defiance from the ghoul's face. Fangfang pressed the pistol to Tsukune's chin and pulled back the hammer.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't coat the floor with your brains right now."

"Because it would be one hell of a cleaning job." Tsukune managed to jest in such a tense situation. An ugly wrinkle formed at the bridge of Fangfang's nose. His face scrunched up in anger and he started pounding Tsukune's face again and again and again.

"Just do it. Kill me already." His speech was slurred. Blood and saliva bubbled out of the corner of his bruised lips as he attempted breathe out of his mouth. Fangfang heard a recovering Ryota chuckle from the side. The yasha gave him a death glare at his inability to read the mood. "You! Shut the fuck up!" The vampire froze and folded like a scolded puppy. He shrank back down and looked the other way, clearly humiliated.

"Not until you tell me why you disobeyed a direct order."

He stared intently into Fangfang's eyes. Suddenly he had wild visions of killing the Yasha on the spot. He forgot the time when it all started, the time when he wished death or grievous bodily harm on the man he once called 'friend'. But Tsukune immediately relented and instead of outright killing him, he opted for a more diplomatic approach. It's not like he had any choice.

"You wanted to expand your business here right? When the Inagawa-kai attacked Alan and his family, they gave you -us- an excuse to legally retaliate."

Fangfang raised a brow "Care to elaborate?"

"If they find out that Alan had already left the family, wiping out one of their branches for no apparent reason would violate the treaty. By keeping Alan alive, it would be a sign that he was still a part of the family and that there was a legitimate reason for retribution. If not, then it would be YOU who'd have started a war."

Fangfang was taken aback. His face had a mixture of shock and surprise. He let Tsukune continue, intrigued at what he had to say.

"Think about it. By tomorrow, peace talks and negotiations would ensue. Your chance to take over Japan just got handed to you on a plate."

Fangfang smirked knowingly and ordered the men to release him. Tsukune dropped on the ground on all fours. Blood had already pooled on his throat and it hindered his breathing. He coughed a copious amount of the thick crimson in a vain attempt to clear out his esophagus. Fangfang walked towards the cell entrance and motioned for the rest of the squad to follow.

"You're getting better at this, Tsukune." Fangfang commended with a cheeky grin. The flattery didn't exactly fill Tsukune with joy. He'd rather damn the faint praise. His bloody coughing fit wouldn't seem to end. Fangfang's blows were really fucking strong and it weakened him to the point that could barely stand.

Ryota, already healed due to his regeneration, relished in Tsukune's sorry state. He crawled on the ground like the dog that he was. It couldn't get any better than that. It was already embarrassing just to put 'ghoul' and 'vampire' in the same sentence, but to fucking work for one? Such travesties were unforgivable. Ghouls were beings that were doomed to devolve into mindless abominations. They were filthy creatures that reeked the stench of death. Yet they were deemed linked to the vampire race which was the source of their never ending displeasure.

The vampire noticed that his twin hadn't moved from her spot. "Reika! Let's go." The vampiress ignored him and went over to Tsukune's side. She slung his arm around her shoulder and gently heaved him back up to his feet. It was mainly to help the man, but she also did so to spite her twin.

"Reika, let go of that trash. RIGHT. FUCKING. NOW."

Reika executed a set of complex hand signs. A magical circle appeared directly below their feet, with the two of them being the focal point. Reika and Tsukune were engulfed in blob of bright, white light.

\--Room 703 – 6:29AM--

Reika set him on the bed. The man was heavy, but thanks to her vampiric strength, it didn't seem much of a bother. His breathing was ragged and he could hardly maintain a rigid state. Reika held his face up to examine the damage done. She slightly winced at the bruises and lacerations Fangfang inflicted on him.

Come on, let's get you cleaned up." She propped him up on a pile of pillows so that his upper body would be elevated. She went for his closet and grabbed a few towels and a first aid kit. She turned on the sink, soaked the towels and went back to Tsukune, who was slipping in and out of consciousness.

"You're not healing like you used to."

"Well…I…don't have much time anyway…" he chuckled like it was completely normal to live on borrowed time.

In the years they knew each other, Tsukune was usually type of person who'd only talk when being spoken to. The real quiet type who'd let his actions do the talking. But in times that he showed off a smile, such as the one he presently wore, she wondered what kind of person he was before he joined the military and the syndicate. His smile was her only real glimpse of his former life. It must've been a good life, she thought.

She gingerly wiped the blood off his face. Even though it stung at the slightest touch, he was unable to put up much resistance. She worked her hands, removing the loose dressings and started stitching up his wounds with a gentle dexterity that flowed like water. There was a skill on her nimble fingers that could only be achieved through years of repetition. But the familiarity she displayed on his body made it clear that she did it only for one person.

Tsukune observed her silently while she did her magic. It only hit him now that he only had two or three years left. He tried to take in every moment and sensation as much as he could- the needle and thread going in and out of his skin, her soft hands brushing against him with delicate strokes. The pain, the hardship, the shit he went through, he felt like all of them were moments worth preserving, because they were the times that he actually felt alive the most.

He looked at the woman who had just finished stitching the last of his wounds- which was a sizeable gash on his thigh. Only then did he start to appreciate the unconditional aid he regularly became a recipient of. Tsukune gently patted her on the head. She looked up, puzzled at the sudden affectionate contact. It was funny, he thought. She really did have a passing resemblance to Moka- a slightly downgraded Moka with black hair, but still achingly beautiful in her own right.

She pursed her lips cutely. "If you keep doing that I'm gonna fall in love with you all over again."

"I'm sorry…I'm just really thankful."

She felt odd warmth spread across her chest, a feeling that she had almost forgotten had his words not reminded her that she too was a creature who felt the heat of passion and the complexities of emotion. Reika placed her hand above his own and guided it until it cupped her face. They sat in silence, eyes deeply locked with each other. She fiddled with the links on his Holy Lock, counting out the ones that were already broken.

"Why did you do it?" she asked.

"What?"

"Why did you save Alan and his family?"

He wanted to tell her that he saw himself in the older man. Like him, Alan only wanted to live his life in peace, away from the dangers and moral dilemmas that came with being part of the family. He could write a hundred-page essay detailing every single reason why he wanted to get out of the Mafia. But the words had not found its way out of his mouth; it was lost in a sea of disjointed thoughts.

"I wanted to do something good while I'm still alive." It was the best he could say at the moment. Reika let go of his hand. It looked like she was about to say something, but it got stuck halfway. Tsukune had already anticipated what it was about.

His smile was comforting "I still have two or three years left in me." He took the words off her mouth and lifted the burden of having to ask such questions off her shoulders. He hated bringing up the subject of his impending death, but no matter how good he was at dodging the topic, it would always pop-up one way or another.

"What about the money, Reika?" he abruptly changed the subject. He wouldn't want to delve in it any longer than necessary.

"I'll wire it to your account. "He nodded, but then she continued "4 million is a lot of money… and your jobs seem to be getting more expensive each time. So is it true? Are you really retiring?"

"I am. Well I'm trying anyway. Fangfang isn't too keen on letting me go." Why would he let Tsukune go? He was his top enforcer and hitman. Without sugarcoating it, he really was just an expendable asset. Once his time has come, he would be worth nothing more than cheap roll of toilet paper.

Tsukune felt something rise in his stomach. It traveled upwards to his throat quickly and he jumped off the bed and staggered towards the bathroom. Reika followed him worriedly. She said something but he couldn't make out what it was. All he knew was that his body was on the verge of collapse. It felt like he was crumbling from the inside. He gripped the sides of the sink and started vomiting blood. It looked as painful as it really was. His stomach churned, squeezing out every fluid in the sack. Reika could only trace circles on his back as he heaved his insides out. His retching was distressing to hear yet she was powerless to actually do anything.

"R-Reika…transfer the money to their accounts…" it was a miracle that he managed to say a word, let alone a sentence.

"What?" she asked perplexed and somewhat indignant "I will not allow you to continue torturing yourself like this!" it was something that she grew tired of. Constantly depriving himself of the money he deserved just to fuel his little guilt trip. She won't do it. Not anymore.

He didn't reply. Not that he could. The ceramic under his vicelike grip shattered like they were made of brittle glass. His vomiting had been reduced until there was nothing left push out. The ghoul momentarily blacked out, consciousness stolen from him like a thief in the night, but Reika caught him in time with an embrace that held up his limp body. She set him down on the tile floor and propped him against the wall. Reika used a couple of tissues to wipe off the blood and bile that slathered his face.

"Oh, god…" The sight of his rapid deterioration was just too much. She was on the verge of tears but she valiantly fought them off.

Through half-open eyes he saw her face, for a moment there he really thought she was Moka and that he was starting to wake from a never ending nightmare. He leaned forward against her shoulder with little control. They took a moment of pause for him to regain his flow of breathing. His lips quivered at being so close to her. His throat was parched and his mouth was all shriveled up. Her soft supple, skin was like an oasis in the middle of the dessert. Like any man stranded in a barren land, a source of nourishment was all too enticing to ignore.

She seemed to have caught on with his desire for sustenance. Reika exposed her collar invitingly, but with no sensuality behind it. His fangs lengthened in response to her beckoning. Though they weren't as long compared to those of a real vampire's, it was enough to pierce her skin and draw out the life giving liquid. A soft moan escaped her mouth as her head tilted upward. He started suckling gently, savoring the warmth of the fresh blood sliding down his throat. It wasn't like the blood packs he regularly consumed which had a stale, diluted taste. This was richer and flavorful; carrying so much life in it that he felt like it extended his own.

But, he didn't know what was in store for him if he kept on drinking- if he crossed the forbidden threshold. He pulled away, satisfied and guilt ridden. Reika was left gasping for air, puzzled and slightly disappointed as to why he stopped. It was absolutely the same as getting interrupted short of having an orgasm.

"Sorry…" he muttered, satiated but still feeling like shit. But his wounds were closing faster thanks to her blood. He wearily snuggled to the crook of her neck, thankful for the meal.

She felt him lightly shiver against her body. She pushed away any feelings of inadequacy and tried to understand his reasons. He was a ghoul after all… If he drank too much blood, it might only hasten his descent into insanity.

"It's okay…" She missed holding him like this. The vampiress pressed his head closer and buried her nose in his hair that smelled of blood, sweat and faint traces of shampoo.

The budding thought that she planted earlier had already grown, but she was reluctant to speak her mind, fearful that it would be cut down before it bore any fruit. But she didn't know when the right time would come. If she held it in any longer and find the strength to do it later, it might be too late.

Tsukune… have you ever thought about…us? About getting back together?"

"Yes… many times…" it came out of his mouth without the slightest hesitation. She sighed. His answer was just too perfect, too ideal. She didn't feel the relief like she thought she would. Before he could follow it up, she spoke again with quiet resolve.

The idea was truly tempting: settling down on a quiet, isolated country side with a beautiful woman and maybe two or three of their kids running around the yard. He'd thought about it when they were together. They would escape, kill all of the pursuers, find a cure and live a quiet life together. He was so close to giving in. But as much of an ideal life it presented, it also underscored the pitfalls of falling in love while leading a life such as theirs. The only ending he ever saw coming was death for the both of them.

"They'll kill you…" he wasn't referring to just the mafia, but her family as well. Vampire society won't take it too kindly with one of their kind eloping with a lowly being like him.

"I don't care. We can take them out."

It already happened before. But instead of being eliminated, he got away with a mere warning. It was the sole reason why they broke up. He accepted the condition without a second thought, even if it meant seeing her heart shatter into a million pieces.

"I'm sorry, Reika. But I can't risk it. I won't put you in such a situation." Even if they managed to succeed, he won't be able to live long anyways. She'd be left alone in the world and there was no way that he'd let her go through that. As much as he wanted to move forward with her, it was absolutely selfish and downright impossible. Thinking about it filled him with even more despair at how unjust the world worked.

But-"

Tsukune silenced her with a finger placed above her lips. "Nothing you say will ever change my mind, Reika." His tone was absolute, but riddled with regret and longing. It was the final nail in the coffin. And he would hammer it down until he got his point across.

The vampiress cupped his face and defiantly brought her lips to his. He tried to pull away but she held him tightly, not wanting to let go. She moved pleadingly, desperately, cheeks already wet with her tears. She was a strong woman, but she only let herself be free when she was with him. It successfully broke down his defenses and made him grab her waist and deepen the kiss.

Not a moment he slumped in her embrace. She pulled away with an expression that couldn't be described with a thousand words. He'd lost consciousness again. Things were already heating up. Everything was good and romantic; a comeback for the ages could be seen in the distance.

But he was knocked out. It seemed like he won't be waking up any time soon.

"Asshole…"

\--Room 702 – 10:35AM--

"Mother, please. We already talked about this!" Kurumu leaned back on the kitchen counter, phone pressed tightly on her ear. She fought off the urge to say mean, nasty things at her mother who was yammering on about wanting grandkids.

"Well, how can I not think about it, honey?! My daughter is older than me when I gave birth! Hell, you're turning thirty in two years!"The even bustier succubus, Ageha, said on the on other line.

"Mother, Succubi are long lived so don't have to worry about it so soon!" her patience was wearing thin. Her mother was truly the insufferable type. But she only wanted what was best for her daughter, so Kurumu understood that and loved her for it. Except for maybe her incessant reminders that she was still single at 28 and a virgin. Not that she minded being a single woman and a virgin at that age. Kurumu was a working woman- she had goals damn it! Her life was intricately planned out in every stage and she wouldn't want to go off-track now, but she could entertain a slight exception.

She had to get her mother to back off some way, even if it meant a teeny tiny lie. "Also, you don't need to introduce me to that guy. I already have a boyfriend." The line was silent for about a minute or so. For a second there, she froze in fear. Did her mother call her bluff?

"Is it true? My god! How come you never told me!" she did it. She actually fooled her.

"We…uh…just started dating two months ago. And you were just so busy, being in senate and all." She sheepishly replied. Though it was about as true as the earth being flat, she still entertained the notion and allowed herself to indulge in her fantasies.

"What's he like?"

"He's tall…" she closed her eyes, trying her best to come up with the image of her perfect guy. "Muscular, but not swole… more… ripped." The mental image started taking shape, perfectly generic, not distinguishable at all. "Handsome…" suddenly her neighbor's face popped up in her daydream. "He's quite stoic and rough around the edges…" her mind went back to when she was stuck fumbling with her door. She remembered being rejected at first glance, but somehow managed to bounce back and even catch a glimpse of his softer side. "But he's really a good person, deep down." She started blushing madly, embarrassed and ashamed that she had to rely on such a short moment to conjure up two month's worth of romance.

"He seems like a catch. I'd like to meet him next week."

Holy crap! She already had one foot in her grave. Not only did she fell down, but she managed to dig herself deeper.

"You can't! Uh… he's a really busy person!" she was already sweating bullets, trying to think of the best possible course to diffuse the situation.

Ageha seemed to have caught on to her little farce. Kurumu could practically feel her mother smugly smirking through the phone. "Hm… you sound rather…distressed?" Ageha faked a gasp of shock "Could it be that you were actually lying to me Kurumu?!" she started fake- crying. "How could you do this to your mother? I never raised you to be a liar!"

Kurumu's eye twitched. Her mother was prone to having fake emotional outbursts just to get a rise out of her. Even though she hated it to the fullest extent, it always managed to get the intended reaction out of her. "F.Y.I mother, he's real as you and me! In fact, he lives right next door!"

Well, then that's perfect honey!" her sing-song tone resumed with a flick off a switch. "You remember about the Grand Ball, right? Bring him with you next week! Oh my, this is exciting news! I'll tell all of my friends! I know they'd be as happy as I am if they knew that our little Kurumu has finally snagged a man."

"The Grand Ball? Are you kidding me mother!? I don't even know if he's even a monster yet!" panic was very clear in her voice.

"Well, you better find out, deary! Look I have to go now. I can't wait to meet him! Don't use protection, okay? I want grandkids. Bye, darling! I love you! Take care! Mwah!"

The phone call ended and Kurumu was left contemplating her life choices. She was never the one to back down on any challenge presented to her. It was part of her programming- a fiery drive the stemmed from her mother's side of the family. A disposition so flawed that it would certainly be her downfall. Her shoulders slumped and she planted her face in her bandaged palms. "Oh god… what have I gotten myself into?"

The oven's timer let out a sharp 'ding' that pierced through her reflective state. She hopped off the counter, excited like a little girl. The succubus opened the oven's door and the delicious scent of sweet, hearty chocolate cupcakes wafted out in full blast. 'The best way to man's heart is through his stomach' was Ageha's number one tactic in winning over potential mates and it was something taught to Kurumu at a very tender age. It was supposed to be just a method in gaining the favor of a potential lover, but it soon became a hobby that she would genuinely enjoy. She never expected that she'd be able to use it for the intended purpose.

You can do it, Kurumu!" She psyched herself up. The cupcakes were made with the finest ingredients; crafted with delicate skill mastered over the years and seasoned with a fine dose of passion and love. In the hands of others, they would be but simple cupcakes and nothing more. In the hands of a skilled woman such as herself, she could make any pastry into an aphrodisiac. This would surely melt that frozen heart of his.

~~~~~~~

With her hands partially healed thanks to Yukari's potions, she was able to carry the plastic container that had about twelve cupcakes in it. She stepped out of her unit looking like a ray of sunshine- jovial and humming a cheery tune. The door to her neighbor's suddenly opened which broke her confident stride and gave her the jitters. 'What will he do? Will he like the cupcakes? Will he even take them?', she thought frantically.

A tall woman with beautiful, waist-length hair stepped out of his condo. She looked intimidating as hell, which somehow reminded her of Inner Moka. Her eyes were red and cat-like. A vampire? She thought. Well she certainly had the dense aura of one. If she was, would she just unabashedly parade her true form for all the humans to see?

But wait...

So if a vampire came visiting him, then that would mean he'd an Ayashi too, right? But then again, who is she? His girlfriend? She could sense familiarity from her gait and the way she went out of his condo, so she couldn't rule out the possibility of her being the significant other. With each passing thought, Kurumu became more and more disheartened and was about to throw in the towel until Reika caught her staring.

The succubus broke her gaze and looked the other direction. Reika noticed the plastic container she held in her bandaged hands. She'd heard of the reports of his high school 'harem', but she never thought she'd get to meet one in the flesh. 'Is this Kurumo Kurono? She's smaller than I imagined.' With her keen sense of smell, she was quick to identify what was inside it. 'Cupcakes, huh? Straight from the oven at that.' The vampiress thought. It was painfully obvious who the recipient was. The background check was accurate; she really was a thirsty one, especially for Tsukune, even though her memories presented a blank slate. To think that the amnesiac succubus would still be subconsciously drawn to that man… her love for him must've been really something.

She hated how he attracted so many women without even trying to. It caused her no small amount of jealousy the entire time they were together. But now that it seemed that there was a sense of finality in their relationship, she couldn't help but be torn up about it. She saw herself in Kurumu- wide eyed and hopelessly in love. Maybe the succubus would have a better chance with him. But even then, her chances were really slim. The vampiress took comfort in the possibility that she wasn't the only who'd be rejected.

"He's sleeping." Reika told the other woman.

"What?"

"He's resting right now. He wouldn't want to be bothered. You should give those to him later." The vampiress bowed curtly. Kurumu saw her eyes shift into normal looking ones once she lifted her head. Reika left without saying another word.

It sounded like she was wishing her good luck or something.

"But… how did she know?"

\--St. Luke's Chapel – 3 days ago--

Mizore got on her toes and planted a lingering kiss on his cheek. The things she felt were a mixed bag. She was happy to see him doing so well, but a part of her was uncertain if she really wanted to see him again. She still remembered the circumstances in which they separated and it pretty much nudged the metaphorical knife lodged in her heart.

But she wasn't going to overlook the probability of starting over with him. The way he held her tightly only confounded her belief that the time was ripe for reconciliation. Eight years had to have dampened any sort of reluctance for getting back together. The snow woman started walking, occupied with thoughts of second chances while also being troubled with the urge to have a date with Rosie Palms.

"Mizore." Tsukune called out to her.

She stopped and looked back at him. She waited for the rest of what he had to say. He looked conflicted, struggling with his words. Given his distant demeanor, he certainly wasn't the type to follow up a conversation.

"I…uh…want to see you again. Some other time… I mean if you're not busy."

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. She'd let the joy and excitement sink in later, but now she had to play it calm and cool.

"Sure." She walked over back to him and handed her phone- the dial screen already up. "Give me your number." She waited for him to take the phone. But he only looked at it, puzzled. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"I don't have a phone."

Are you fucking kidding me?! "Are you serious?"

He only nodded plainly. Mizore sighed. Has he been living under a rock this whole time?

"Have we been living on the same planet?" it seemed like a perfectly valid question.

"Hey, it's not like I exactly needed one before. Besides, even if I had one, I wouldn't know who to contact anyway." Well, he did have a point. There meeting must was just a coincidence. If they arrived an hour late or early, they wouldn't be even having this conversation at all. Thus, he'd find no use for a cell phone.

"Okay fine. Do you have an email address?" it was certainly better than not having anything.

"No."

What the hell?! This was going to be a lot harder than she imagined. She sighed, asking for guidance on the god or gods above. "I'll help you buy one. You know Venus Fort, right? The one in Odaiba? We go there."

"All right then. Let's meet at the station on Saturday if you're not busy." Tsukune admired her assertiveness and decisive character. Admiration born from his shortcomings with the lack of said qualities.

"Time?"

"I'll meet you there at 5:00PM"

~~~~~

As the time of their 'date' neared, Mizore found herself in front of her calendar again- page flipped to March, wondering if she made the right decision of following him back to the chapel or by even proposing to accompany him. As each second flew by where she sat in the quiet of her apartment, her thoughts became louder than ever. A lot of unwanted feelings came back along with him. And being alone in a silent place with nothing to do but to ponder over her thoughts and let her feelings of fear, apprehension and love sink in almost drove her mad.

She opened her closet and grabbed a small, rectangular tin jewelry box that had a lock to keep it sealed. She placed it on her table and she gazed at it, unsure as to why she brought it back out into the open after all this time. She found the strength unlock it. After that she didn't touch it again. She was back to zero. And it was going to take a lot of mental fortitude at attempting to even lift the lid. Mizore replaced the lock and shoved the box away like it committed a grave offense.

She placed a hand on her belly habitually, contemplatively "What the hell am I doing?"

\--Room 703 – 3:27PM--

Much like Mizore, Tsukune was alone, sitting at the dining alcove of his condo, smoking a cigarette and absentmindedly fiddling with both the dog tags on his neck and Moka's broken rosary. Reika already left, but he could still smell her perfume in the room. Their kiss was the last thing he felt before he blacked out. He traced a finger on his lips where the sensation of her soft, pouty ones never left. By no means was she a replacement for Moka. She was a strong and as beautiful as her and he came to love her genuinely. Even to the point of envisioning a life with her. But he'd be lying to himself if he said that her uncanny resemblance to the silver-haired vampiress wasn't the reason why they had a relationship in the first place.

He finished the cigarette and smushed the smoldering butt against the ash tray. He lit another one up and continued staring into the space. Tsukune usually avoided the cancer sticks, especially with his death fast approaching. He wouldn't want to hasten the process now would he? But he always kept a pack reserved for moments such as this.

He barely made it out alive against the hit squad Fangfang sent for him. It was only because of his latent talent in diplomacy. But why did he choose to fight for his life if he was going to die anyway? What was his purpose? Is it to find a cure? To have a semblance of closure on Kyouko's death? Whatever it was, he had to find out fast.

With all the shit happening, he didn't even have a moment to look around his new residence. He didn't even have the chance to unpack his clothes yet. It was a modest place, charitable, no personal touches at all (as if he was the type of person for that). The bed was unmade and the sheets still had his dried blood. Dishes on the sink, guns and bullets scattered on the carpet floor. A few days in everything was already a mess.

He looked at the digital clock that read '3:35pm'. "Time to get ready." He almost forgot that he'd meet with Mizore today. It was better than staying here. He checked inside the dressings that Reika reapplied. His wounds were already healed, but it left fresh scars in their wake. He'd just have to cover them up. He's not going to get naked in front Mizore anytime soon that's for sure.

Tsukune went inside the bathroom. He needed to take a bath first and wash the grime off his body. He didn't want to scare the snow woman with his stench.

Ten minutes later and the ghoul stepped out of the shower feeling like a new man. He slipped on a grey shirt and black jeans. He unpacked a pair of black Adidas-looking sneakers from his duffle bag and put them on. He grabbed his leather jacket slung over a chair. He was ready to go. No need for the excessive styling that men do nowadays. They were just going to buy a phone anyway, no need for for anything special.

~~~~~~

It was already her fifth time standing in front of his door. Surely by now he'd be awake. She became disillusioned with each visit; the constant staring at the large piece of rectangular wood chipped away her enthusiasm. Not only that, but the cupcakes were already cold. She started wondering if it was all for a lost cause. Mere inches from knocking again; she pulled her hand away realizing that if she hammered on that door, it'd be like willfully touching a scalding metal pot. She'd just get burned even more.

"I can't do this!" She was just going to give cupcakes, how hard could it be? To to give an answer: it was very hard. But what spurred her feelings of uncertainty and insecurity was something completely out of her hands. If she were to play the blame-game, she'd pin it on the woman who just stepped out of the very door she stood in front of. The woman was absolutely, one hundred percent, his girlfriend. No doubt about it. She was already called "The Virgin" back at her home world, she didn't want to be called Kurumu "The Homewrecker" Kurono here. Well… stealing a mate was perfectly normal back in land… but there was no way it would apply here. As if she could steal a man!

"Damn vampires…" she hissed under her breath. Vampires were the real homewreckers, not her. Of all the people, she started picturing Moka staring lovingly with the man of her dreams. She didn't know if it was just because Moka was the only vampire she knew, or if there was something deeper behind it. One thing she knew was that her resentment towards the red-eyed bastards ran deep. She was about to call it a day and return to her room, but then she remembered her sole reason of being there. It would be a waste of passion and effort if the cupcakes never made it to him.

She heard his door creak behind her. It made her jump out in surprise when he stepped out of the room, looking fresh and casual. And he was back to looking like the man she met at the cemetery, not the mean spirited, suit wearing, handsome asshole she met yesterday. But he looked troubled and unfocused. Relationship troubles maybe?

He finally noticed her standing there. She tried, with every ounce of strength, to bring out her cheery smile. She did it so fast that the drastic shift from sullen to shining almost gave her whiplash. "H-hey…" she said nervously while holding the container.

"Hey" was his simple reply. He eyed her hands: they were bandage free now, then to the box of cupcakes. He raised a brow "How are your hands?"

"Oh! Uh… They're okay now!"

Tsukune knew that she was an Ayashi. Faster regeneration was a given. But he wouldn't want to ask any more unnecessary questions. "That's good." He offered a brief, casual smile that had no emotion to it.

She noticed that he was already geared up and set to go. She felt her heart sink a little.

"Are you leaving?" she asked, slightly downcast.

"Yeah. What's wrong?"

"I was just going to give to this you… as a housewarming gift." she motioned towards the cupcakes "But you look busy so I'll just give it to you later." She smiled and gave a polite bow. The succubus headed back to her condo, but a hand caught her wrist with a gentleness that seemed mindful of her injuries.

"It's okay. I'll leave it in my room."

She turned around and saw his expression. It was still as cold as a fridge, but there was warmth in it that looked awfully familiar, like she had seen it a thousand times already. She handed him the box of cupcakes and he took it graciously.

"Thank you." He said as he entered his condo and emerged a few seconds later without the box. "I'll eat them later." And he walked away.

The succubus looked on with renewed interest as he got farther away from her. Maybe she had a chance after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I made a little addition to the first chapter on Mizore's part. It's going to be really integral to her character later so be sure to check it out before reading this!
> 
> This was one of the more romance heavy chapters in the story and there will be no shortage of them in the future. But rest aside, there will also be plenty of action in the coming chapters! So please stay tuned!
> 
> Anyway, the reason for such a long delay was because I found a little black notebook of mine that contained notes on how I should go about this story. It was too much to pass up so I included bits and pieces of them here. Rather than be a remake, this will be a full re-envisioning.(If you noticed I reused some of the characters from my first story "After A Fairy Tale".)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Also, thank you for the reviews! Happy new year!


	5. Chapter 5

HIRED GUNS

CHAPTER 5

 **We were one of the lucky ones.** Supplies had just shipped in fresh from HQ. The guys in the platoon were giddy, muscular men who looked like five-year-olds opening presents in the first waking hours of Christmas. M4's, M240Bs, Barret M82's...my god it really felt like Christmas in July. The excitement jumped off from one grunt to the other. Even the most stone-faced, disagreeable types found their buttholes clenched in excitement as they walked towards the crates to help unload the goodies.

The folks back at the mainland were hesitant at handing over their hard-earned cash to fight for something that was moot at best. Why would you fight for a race that doesn't even know of your existence? So, in turn, the war was seriously underfunded. It makes me wonder why we were even fighting in the first place. The worst gear we got were Vietnam-era M16's and four Hueys that were slapped together with duck tape just so they could arm everyone lower than B-Class.

But having a weapon in your hand was better than having none at all. Take, for example, the situation that the pricks up at SABs are facing. The Major had issued a general order that some of the highly talented individuals from S to B class were to use their natural abilities as much as possible to cut back on costs. The only form of solace they took from it was that they were to be given a sidearm just in case. The first guys to bail were, unsurprisingly, the vampires of nobility. They'd rather be somewhere far away from the battlefield where 7.62s won't reach them. They tried to escape and the next thing they know –BAM- military tribunal!

Fucking pogues.

Raijus and Youkos (those who had five tails and above) were also affected since they were in Sierra Company. They had the highest reports of friendly fire due to their wide AOE attacks, so their roles were reduced into providing support for the assault troops- which was good because Raijus were practically useless out in an open field. I once saw a Raiju get torn to shreds by a gunner manning a KPV. It was an open field, no telephone lines, wires or any shit that could conduct electricity- nowhere to zap out of.

I realized that S-ranks don't mean shit when it came to .57 cal rounds. In a twisted way, relief was the first thing I felt knowing that they died just like everyone else. Especially since the guys under Charlie practically worshipped them. You see a group of Alphas walking down the center of the chow hall, thinking like they're hot shit; look around, you'd swear that Charlie's have hard-ons for them.

But the general order wasn't entirely without merit. The extreme blood knights of Sierra relished the carnage. Vampires and Werewolves came to mind. These are the type of guys that didn't need a weapon to fight. In fact, it would've been a disservice to give them one instead of letting them use their bare hands.

It wasn't hard to guess that the S-Ranks fought solely for the sake of fighting and getting paid at the same time. I never heard anyone of them even mention anything noble like "We need to protect the human race so that we could be all friends". Sugary bullshit like the things Moka used to lovingly jam into my head. It was just an itch to be scratched for them. Maybe it was the same for me.

****

 **My call sign was "Ghoul".** Right after Boot, I was originally recommended and placed in an S-class unit in Sierra Company called "Reaper-1", but after a bit of negligence on my part, I was court martial'd for false representation. It turns out I was the only enlisted Ghoul/Human in the YDF. The Monster Resources Command made a mistake in the sworn statement saying that I was a vampire.

Instead of a punishment, they dropped me down to Charlie Company. I was in a C-Class detachment unit '2F'. Where they got that name…I wasn't sure and I didn't ask the second time after one of the guys called Sigma threatened to fuck up my face with a Recon Tanto. But I heard that during their early years as part of the main battalion, one of them accidentally popped some smoke on a group of friendlies when they requested air support. I didn't know if the friendlies survived.

We were tasked to retrieve a dossier that contained a list of weapons to be shipped, where it would be shipped, and when. The intel was good, it came from one Hokuto Kaneshiro. But it turned out that the Elven town had already been captured and turned into a base camp by enemy forces.

It was a quaint little place with about a population of fifteen-hundred Elves. Mountains surrounded the town like walls so it was pretty isolated from the rest of the world. There were only five or six commercial buildings, not one of them exceed two floors; four diners, two pharmacies, three clinics, a church, and a town hall. There were a total of seven exits, three of them trade routes that cut through the mountains narrowly. It was the type of town you'd want to retire in and grow old and sneak off into the woods to die alone.

We were prone for about an hour on this cliff overlooking the town and already my front was starting to go numb. 'Coon', this Tengu that had hairy, black caterpillars for eyebrows, looked through the high precision scope of his L115A1, burdened without having to have done recon first at the insistence of the base chief. I was right next to him at the time. It was a good thing that he wasn't going down with us. If he did, Tangos would've already spotted us. Think wet dog smell, but I won't tell him that.

He and 'X-Man' were our designated snipers. The latter was located on a different vantage point in the southern part of the town. Even though he was tiny compared to other specimens in his race, his single, big eye was always put to good use. Better depth perception than most of the snipers I know and he literally had one master eye.

I looked through my binoculars and adjusted the focus on the troops patrolling outside of the town hall. They called themselves "The Union of Yokai Progression". But they were just Nazis by any other name. We call them anything degrading- anything that would lessen their status as living beings. It was better not to know the enemy, contrary to the popular saying. I dropped this mook once during the 'Siege of Mt. Chilumma'. A photo spilled from his helmet- he was a father of two. I hesitated and almost got a bayonet jammed in my gut.

'Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer' certainly isn't applicable here. I'd want the enemy far away from me as possible, possibly within the range that I could put a bullet right between the eyes.

I look up to the black void we have for a sky and saw a small red light that blinked during five-second intervals. It was only noticeable if you squint hard enough.

"Jarhead, give me a SITREP," I asked our resident tech/medic as he flew his little recon drone.

"They are a substantial force. We got three of them posted at every guard post along the exits. Four watchtowers with searchlights, three Type 90 Tanks, seven trucks with mounted KPV's and fifty or so Tangos armed with standard gear and RPGs: Geckos (Lizardmen), Mookies (Centipedes) and Hybrids. No S-Class monsters spotted. There may be more inside the buildings. You better get the dossier fast before they bring in more troops. "

"Most of them are outside of the town hall and are patrolling the perimeter. The church next to it must be where they rounded up the civvies and POWs". Coon said without taking his eye off the scope of his rifle.

"Town hall is our command center." I grabbed my suppressed M4 and slung it over my shoulder "Coon?" I did one final mag and brass check before I got up on one knee.

"Pharmacy A's clean. No tangos spotted."

"Guys, we got a problem," Ichinose said through the radio with a strained voice as if he'd been screaming for an hour straight. Could he have been compromised? I thought. The fucking op hasn't even started. Multiple worst-case scenarios ran through my mind. It was better to be prepared for the worst.

"Report!" Staff Sergeant 'Mach' was quick to respond, but there was only static at the other end of the line. It was really the only time I heard his voice during the op.

"Where was his last position?" I try not to sound more panicked than I already am. I asked the two snipers and Jarhead to spot him. Usually, with situations like these, we'd be given a choice to ditch him or not. And usually the latter was always chosen and we'd get fucked in the end.

"Found him." Jarhead radioed in. "He's over by the east end of the town behind Building D. He...He's scratching his ass."

"Say again?"

"Sorry guys, but my bunghole is really fucking itchy"

I could imagine his face when he said it. A giant of a man with chubby cheeks and a scraggly ginger beard squirming on the ground, face twisted into a grimace while reaching for an itch in the most unimaginable of places. There were some grunts and moans on the line since he left it open. I don't know, but it sounded like he enjoyed it.

"What the fuck, Ichinose?" I said with barely restrained anger. It got us all worked up for nothing.

"When I scratch it, it feels swollen around the rims like a bug fucking bit it. Argh! Fuck!"

"Too much info there, Ichinose" Coon said "Or rather, Itchy" Ho-ho here we go. "You sure Deetz didn't give you an STD?"

We waited to see if it would rouse a reaction from Deetz. As usual, a cold "Fuck you" was his only reply. Hearty chuckles almost gave away our position. I blamed it on the nervousness. It was really a high stakes game, with hostages and massive enemy forces. We shouldn't be laughing, but it was better if we did even for a little.

"Alright, can the chatter!"

"Staff Sergeant, should we go for the hostages?" I ask.

"Negative. This is not a Rescue OP. Leave that to the boys at Sierra. Our mission is to retrieve that dossier and EXFIL ASAP. Ghoul and Sigma form up on me by Pharmacy A; Jarhead, Coon, X-Man you're our eyes; Itchy, Deetz, Spray, plant those charges and circle back to the red building east of town hall."

I turn off my radio, wrestling with a violence that clawed its way from the back of my mind. There was a sudden emptiness in the pit of my stomach and bitter taste in my mouth that left me sneering. "Fucking hell." was all that I could say. Coon glanced to the side like he knew exactly how I felt.

"Coon... can you confirm if the hostages are in the church?" I ask while weighing my options.

"Affirmative." He said. "You gonna extract them?"

I didn't answer since there was a chance he'd report me to the E6. I know it's the right thing to do and I know that if I don't go there, sleep would be a thing of the past for me. The jump from the cliff was quick, only two seconds passed before my boots landed on the ground. I diverge from the path that led to the rendezvous and made my way through the dark streets of the town. The electricity was out and there wasn't a soul in any of the houses that I passed by.

"Ghoul you got Tango's coming up on your six. They're in a UAZ. Get out of the road. " Coon said. And as soon as he did, my body acted automatically. I jumped out of the road and into the nearest house via the window. My body smashed the glass and I landed into a roll, with shards piercing my battle dress and leaving gashes on my skin.

"They stopped." Coon narrated "They're going inside. They must've have noticed the broken window."

Oh shit. It may have not been the smartest move. I hide behind the nearest cover, which was a sofa "How many?" I whispered, gripping my gun till my hands were white.

"Four Geckos armed with RPKs".

"Take them!"

"Negative, there's too many. It'll give them time to report back."

I go to the lavish dining room and crouch behind a pony wall. A suppressor would be too loud and it would give away my position too early, so I pull out my knife. The door gets kicked open and hairs that I didn't know I had on my body stood up. Taking a peek, I saw them split. Two went upstairs while the other went to the basement.

These fuckers could see well in the dark. But so could I.

The Gecko enters the room and as soon as it crosses the entrance, I lunge and skewer the fleshy underpart of its snout so hard that the knife's tip penetrated through its thick carapace on the other side. It stood paralyzed and there was a little struggle. I could feel blood soaking my gloves so I leave the knife lodged in its snout and grab his own knife to slit his throat quick and soundless.

Three more to go.

****

 **I wipe the blood clean off my knife.** It was one hell of a warm-up, but I got them before they could even fire a single round. I took care of the last two upstairs and as I went down to the living room, something caught my eye, that with all the carnage, I never noticed was there.

The walls were decorated with pictures documenting the steady growth of the family that used to live here. The first was a wedding photo of the parents and right next to it was the first family photo. There were three kids, two of them were about five or six years old while the youngest was about a year old. It looked like they only decided to do this sort of yearly thing after they had the third kid.

The middle child was an Elf boy that had a buzz cut. His ear-to-ear grin pushed up his chubby cheeks so you'd never know if he had his eyes closed. As he got older, his smile faded into a grimace. It was the adolescent phase- the awkward years of rebelliousness that you'll remember years later while looking at the ceiling of your lonely flat.

Gradually, his smile returned as he reached his twenties. The previous photos had him almost avoiding body contact with the rest of his family, now he's wrapping his arms around their shoulders while sporting the same dumb grin he had when he was younger. The parents looked older each time, and I was reminded of how life could past you in the blink of an eye. Once youthful faces now had greying hairs and wrinkles. But their smiles never left. There was contentment brought about by living a long, fulfilling life and you could see it in them. They were happy and they were proud.

They had new members in the last photo: a wife and a baby. A lump formed in my throat and my chest tightened the longer I looked, so I had no choice but to wrench my eyes away. "Oh god..." A family used to live here. And they looked like they didn't even know that there was fucking a war.

"Ghoul, you better get a move on. They're dragging the hostages to the front of Town Hall."

I shouldered my weapon and bolted out of there. Transferring the civilians to an open area could only mean one thing. I went out of the house, the smiles of the family haunting my soul. A large .338 Lapua Magnum whizzed through the air just about an inch from my temple. It was followed by a loud thud. When I turned around, I saw a Gecko twitching on the ground, the last ounces of life seeping out of it in a red puddle.

"You're welcome," Coon said. The nearest water tower could be his vantage point. The man was fast in changing positions. The old concepts of prepositioned snipers were thrown out the window. The sniper's efficiency will be determined by how mobile they were.

"Cheeky bastard. Are you gonna back me up on this? You know what they'll do to you, right?"

"What, are you kidding me? Going to court is like going to the principal's office. And a corporal punishment of twenty-fucking-lashes is a pleasant evening for me."

****

 **Coon said that I should take the alleys since it was faster there.** But he never mentioned anything about a load of Tangos roaming around. Before I reached the town hall, I must've dropped five or six of them- eight counting the ones I'm about to drop right now.

As I run through the dingy alley that smelled of stale, rotting food and dried urine, two blobs of white light flash from my internal youki sensor. The two were coming in from the corner fast, so stealth was out of the question. It was already too late for me to hit the brakes since my legs were running at full pelt. It was like two cars crossing an intersection at 150mph. An inevitable collision.

I have no choice but to take them out.

"Ghoul, you got Tangos coming up on your 12!" Coon said.

"I know!" Just as the two Geckos entered the alley, I go in fast and hard, running up the wall and using it as spring to kick one of the lizards in the face. Brain and teeth flew in the air as he got a mouthful of my steel-toed boots.

I land and quickly duck from an overhead tail sweep from the other lizard. I use the momentum to get down fast and hug the floor, drop my hip and sweep my leg to the back of its heel in one fluid motion. It slams on its back, letting out a pained yelp before I got on top of it and quickly end its misery with two shots from my suppressed (Osprey) Black Ops 1911.

It all happened so fast that I sure wasn't that it happened at all. What a fucking rush. I stood there and let a few second tick-by, hands shaking and sweat pouring, before the volume of adrenaline lessened and could resume normal function again.

"Be advised, a bird just landed outside of town hall," Jarhead said on the comm. "Three S-class monsters just stepped out of it."

"What are they?" I asked directly to Coon.

"Two cute Sirens and nine-tailed Youko."

Youko? Whenever I hear that word, my ticker would skip a beat and my body would freeze. This sensation was all too familiar. "What does the Youko look like?" I had to be sure. There weren't many Youko's out there that had nine tails. And the funny thing is: I knew one of them.

"Long hair...blonde... looks like a grade-A dickwad."

Fuck. I had to slap my chest hard just to calm the rapid pumping of my heart. "Breathe in and breathe out." I did it for about five minutes before I could even gain some semblance of composure. Was it excitement or fear? I may have mixed up the two. I'll know for once I get there. But I was sure about one thing: Anger. The kind that gets your muscles all tensed and you feel tremors as a result.

"Ghoul, where the fuck are you? Turn on your damn transmitter so I can track you. I won't be able to jump to your position if you get injured." Jarhead said. "Oh and Staff Sergeant Mach and rest are at the rendezvous point, they're waiting for you so you better get to them now."

Jarhead had this ability to teleport anywhere within a twenty-mile radius, but his body wasn't built like the rest of us, so he can't risk staying too long out in the field.

Before the war, he was an ER doctor, but due to a mix-up, he got drafted and was stationed at Fort Methuselah. Even now, the team still doesn't know what kind of monster he is. The other units in Charlie Company even made a betting pool. I bet he came from the school that housed incredibly gifted youngsters.

"I'm not going, brother."

"You're going for the hostages, right?"

"W-wait. How the fuck did you know?" I planned to leave it at that, but he replied so fast and so sure that I couldn't think of anything else to say.

"I figured as much from reading your file. 'Hero Complex' huh? Yeah, well... I sort of have the same thing so maybe I won't tell the E6."

'Hero complex'? What the fuck did the MRC write on my file?

"What will you tell him?"

"That your ass got itchy like with Ichinose, so you can't get there in time."

It'll stain my reputation, but it was a small price to pay. "Thanks, brother."

"Don't forget to switch your fucking transmitter on!"

****

 **I reached the town hall.** SSG Mach hadn't contacted me after Jarhead told him that I was anally incapacitated. I bet they were laughing their heads off. I hide behind a couple of oil drums stacked next to these big crates and look through my ACOG scope. My body froze with a familiar terror that had latched on to me ever since I 'died' on that fateful day at Yokai Academy. I couldn't move and I wanted to scream until all the air in my head went out of my mouth.

It really was Kuyou. And he had nine-fucking-tails. For a Youko, that meant that they had reached the peak of their power. And it meant a whole lot of trouble for me.

I was positive that he was dead when I beat the living shit out of him and there was no way that he could survive the Floating Garden crashing in the middle of the sea. But he was there, right in front of my eyes –or rather- my scope. I thought that the fear would go away after I defeated him, but I was wrong. Was destiny screwing with me? Was I fated to fight to this guy every-fucking-time?

The townsfolk were shackled together and were down on their knees in front of the town hall, just like Coon said. It was a special kind of evil to include women and children there. They all looked scared shitless- cuts and bruises marred their bodies, clothes were torn up and some of them looked like they already had a foot in the grave. A few of them fought back and resisted, but the sound of heavy machine guns ripping into the air was enough to persuade them.

I noticed something though "Coon, is that all of them?" there must've been a few hundred of them- certainly not going above three hundred.

"Negative, the rest of them had been transferred to different camps."

It made me wonder why these people were still kept there. Why not just transfer all of them to another concentration camp?

Kuyou was pacing back and forth in front of them while he had this crazy look in his eyes. Then he started shouting in a language I wasn't familiar with, his face contorting like that of a snarling dog.

"Coon, what's he saying?" I asked since his scope had a directional microphone so he could eavesdrop on enemy conversations.

"I skipped Elvish when I was at school, but I do understand a few words. I think he's…angry."

"Yeah, you think?!"

"It's like… wait…It looks like they were secretly aiding the YDF."

That was a big fucking no-no. Kuyo was this absolute purist nutjob that had zero tolerance for anything related to humans. He then lifted up one of them by the throat in a fit of anger. The man was choking and crying. I didn't understand what he was saying, but it wasn't hard to figure out that he was begging for his life. Swirls of blue fire engulf Kuyou's body until he was completely robed in flames hot enough to melt the man's face off. Then he turns his deranged eyes towards the hapless civilians as the man, who was someone's husband or father, dies a slow and gruesome death.

"Coon! Take the shot!" He didn't respond. "Coon!"

Kuyou's getting ready. He lets out a maniacal laugh that got the civilians screaming and crying. A few of them try to escape, and those who succeeded got promptly gunned down.

That was enough to strengthen my convictions. The outcome will entirely depend on how much level-grinding the bastard did. But judging from his appearance, I say he had plenty of time to level up. The fear I had felt earlier felt like a dream- it wasn't real after all. I had a sudden, smoldering urge to rip his head off. As the black vines flooded with Alucard's tainted blood crawled up my neck, my vision started blurring into a crimson haze.

Before I could jump over there, a pair of muscular arms wrapped me in a headlock. I struggle, fangs bared to the fullest and veins popping out from my arms. "Let go of me!" It was Big Man Itchy. Mach and the rest of squad were right behind him waving the intel that they just secured.

"He's going to torch those civilians if we don't go over there!" I managed to loosen his hold, but Sigma, Deetz, and Spray held my legs back like they were a bunch of fucking wheel clamps. It was one of those times that I actually felt helpless.

"We have the intel, our mission here is done! Now stand down, Sergeant Aono!"

Kuyou starts burning them one by one with thin blasts of hellfire. Itchy wouldn't let me go and my tears were starting flowing out uncontrollably. I felt a few wet drops sliding down my cheeks that weren't mine. It looked like Itchy was also crying. So why? Why the fuck wouldn't they let me go?!

"NO! FUCK! FUCK!"

"Stand down! We have to EXFIL now!"

"I can take them! I can fucking take them! So let go of me! Coon! Take the fucking shot!"

"I can't let Coon do that, brother." Instead of Coon, X-Man was the one who answered the comm.

Fuck it, they can court-martial me and suck my dick for all I care. There was no way that I would let those people die. I elbowed Itchy in the gut. It seemed to do the trick as his grip loosened even more. I elbowed him again and again until he was coughing-up wads of blood and I could feel a couple of his ribs break. I managed to shake off Deetz and Sigma from my legs, but after I ran for a few steps, a bullet went through my right shoulder, leaving a huge exit wound the size of a softball.

I stumbled from the impact but I kept running. I didn't know who shot me and I didn't care. Then another round exploded from my left shoulder. I saw a huge chunk of meat fly off, but it wasn't enough to stop me. It hurt like hell; but not doing anything, even though you can, was more painful than any form of torture.

A huge, slimy tentacle coiled around my waist with enough pressure to crush my spine. Four more tentacles shot out and pulled-back my arms and legs. It was Spray, already in his true form.

The beast inside me was raring to go. I can't hold it back any longer. The sheer rage coursing through me fed it until it fattened up to the point it couldn't stay locked in its cage.

Even though both of my shoulders were practically useless, a surge of power blocked all the pain receptors in my head. Slowly, with great effort, I was able to rip-out one of Spray's tentacles. I could hear him scream, but my ears were closed to fuckers who were willing to let innocent people die.

"Sarge! He's Ghoul-ing out!" I heard him shout, but it was all muffled.

"X-Man! Do it!" Mach ordered.

"Roger." X-Man made a point to give me a heads-up through my radio.

Spray retracted the tentacle that had wrapped around on my abdomen, leaving me exposed. A .408 Cheyenne Tactical pierces through my vest and creates water-like ripples like my body was made of Jell-O. It burst through just below my heart and a fountain of blood and viscera erupted.

Spray released me from his clutches and my body fell limp, but I could still see Kuyou burning the civilians to ashes. Some of them didn't die instantly. Others were fruitlessly trying to put the flames out. It was like a big bonfire made of dancing corpses. Distorted screams filled the air, screams that would continue to ring in my ears every time things go quiet.

My mind went back to the family photo just before my eyes closed; to the kid that grew up to have a family of his own. I wonder if they died quickly.

****

 **"Six lives were lost in a fire that broke out somewhere in Shinjuku this morning."** He was suddenly at Venus Fort, Odaiba. How he got there… he couldn't remember. His eyes were too fixated on the bright flat-screen that hung over one of the shop windows. He clutched the area where the bullet pierced through him almost habitually. His mind was as blank as his stare, but he could feel something well-up in his chest.

"Tsukune!" a female voice wrenched him out his idle gazing. As if a dam broke, all sorts of sounds and visual stimuli bombarded his senses. Families walked around, a bunch of friends gossiped loudly about a girl named Kasumi and how she had been doing Enjo-Kosai, and a couple briefly fought over spilled ice cream. There were many more, but those were the things that suddenly came into focus. And then the voices started merging into one indistinguishable, garbled noise that almost popped his eardrums.

He felt something tug at his sleeve and then he caught it with blinding speed. His other hand unconsciously reached for a holster that wasn't there. And for the briefest second, he felt naked without his gun. But all of that seemed inconsequential once he laid eyes on the owner of the hand.

He dropped it like it a hot piece of coal. The alarm in his head, the red alert that caused him to go haywire, died down and a sudden, overwhelming urge for damage control took its place. Mizore stared at him with a mix of fear and apprehension, all while clutching an aching wrist. He tried to reach out for her but she reflexively avoided his touch. It was like a kick in the 'nads and her terrified face only made him feel twice as bad.

Mizore also felt some guilt when she saw his crushed look. She knew he hadn't meant to do it and it was very apparent that he was suffering from something. "Are you okay?" she asked with an understanding tone.

There was a very visible mark on her wrist and he wondered why she was the one that asked that. He felt even worse than before and every second that passed added a 'plus-one' to the levels of shit of he felt. He grabbed her wrist with the utmost care and eyed the possible sprain without saying a word.

It was in the way he held her hand that made her blush. His palms were rough and calloused, but they were surprisingly light and warm. She let him graze his thumb on the area where it felt sore in order to soothe it a little. The act triggered memories in her that she didn't want. She'd rather not get too attached again.

"Don't worry about me. I'm fine." She gently yanked her wrist away. Her natural regeneration would kick-in soon and it would all be healed before the day ended.

"Are you okay?" She asked again as her palm gently cupped his face tenderly-but not too lovingly. His five o'clock shadow pricked her palm; it was like placing your hand on the tip of grass without pressing down. He really wasn't the baby faced boy she met in Yokai Academy, she mused. His brown hair was a shade lighter and his face had this perpetual look of stoicism that made it really hard to guess what he was thinking. In the few seconds of being lost in thought, she realized that she got too carried away. Mizore lightly slapped his face three times in an effort to stay casual.

He looked back towards the LED TV. The news had already changed, saying something about the Japan Samurai Bears revival.

"I'm okay. I just-" he stalled, throat constricting, almost cutting off the flow of air. "I'm sorry. I have to take a leak." He ran towards the nearest restroom and found a stall where he cried for the first time in a long time.

When he got out, Mizore was waiting for him. It was humiliating. But neither of them said a thing about it.

****

 **Mizore never struck him as the 'Sukiyaki' type of girl**. Tsukune drank his beer while she chomped down on a piece of Shiitake. He noticed that she didn't like tofu, because she always avoided it like the plague. He snuck a glance at her bowl- it was filled with mushrooms. That meant the task of clearing out the tofu fell on him. He couldn't say anything since he didn't know if she turned into one of those ultra sensitive people in this day and age. Eight years was a really long time and it could change a person in a million ways. You could love one person today and then hate them the next. Hell, a shy girl like her turned into a lady cop, part of the SAT if he recalled correctly.

It was only 10 PM but only a few people ate there with them. The food was nice for a cheap, three-hundred-yen buffet. The place was nice and quiet- it looked like the kind joint where salarymen and office women would hang out after a nine to five job and get wasted, only to be late for work the next day. Mizore stood out the most with her model-like looks, alabaster skin and sad blue eyes. He expected to pull out a wad of cash and treat her to a nicer place, but this was also okay. It was actually more up his alley, plus the beer was super cold.

The fire underneath the pot made his armpits sweat, so he took off his jacket- he only hoped that there weren't any pit stains on his grey shirt. If the heat made him take off an article of clothing, he wondered how Mizore fared. She was a Yuki-Onna after all and heat was something they never agreed with. He glanced to the side; she was still happily eating to her heart's content. He shrugged, since everything looked okay, and folded the jacket, placing it on the side after.

He didn't notice, but after he took off his jacket, Mizore stopped eating after remembering that she was accompanied by a very handsome ex-lover. His sleeves hugged his ripped biceps like they were two sizes smaller. There was even a little bit of tattoo peeking out from his right sleeve. Was it mandatory for military guys to get tattoos? She wondered. Then, her eyes trailed to the Latin ink on his forearms that read 'NEMO MALUS FELIX' she couldn't help but raise a brow at what it could have meant. Her Latin was rusty since she never paid attention to it in school. She blushed when he caught her staring too long and returned to eating.

The two ate in relative silence and Mizore hated it. Tsukune didn't mind at all.

An hour later and the table was already piling up with cans of Asahi Super Dry. It was actually enough to grease the gears of their rusty relationship. Mizore smiled more, which was a welcome change from her dull demeanor. She looked at him fondly- as you would with a puppy trying (and failing) to climb up the stairs as he tinkered with his new phone. She didn't notice it herself, but there was a big dumb grin pasted on her face.

Each time a new customer came in, Mizore would take a look at the entrance like she was expecting something. Tsukune, also with loosened inhibitions, took the opportunity to test out his phone camera. And like the puppy that he was, he failed miserably at sneaking out a candid photo of the lovely, drunk lady since he left the shutter effect on.

He decided to roll with it and rapidly smashed the big white button as Mizore turned her head towards him. You can see her expression gradually change with each picture. It went from confused, to incredulous and then to a big, warm smile. He felt like he was the unwanted company for the rest of their 'date' and to see her flashing a grin lessened the weight dragging him down. It made him feel…warm and accepted. Or maybe it was just the alcohol.

"What are you doing?" she asked coyly.

"Nothing." He countered just as coy.

"Lemme see!"

"Don't worry you look fine! You might delete them if I gave it to you."

"Why would I delete it if I looked 'fine'?" she quickly shot back.

"Different people have different views on beauty. You might say you look ugly in one photo, but when you show it to other people, they say 'oh shut up! You look great!' and then they accuse you of humble bragging and then you feel bad." Tsukune realized that it might have implied something. He hoped Mizore hadn't caught wind of it.

Mizore diverted her gaze and tried hiding her blushing face. "So…I'm beautiful?" she would have never asked under normal circumstances. The emotions she felt were stronger thanks to the beer. She held in her breath as she waited for his reply, clutching her chest with anticipation. She looked like an idiot.

Holy shit! She noticed! He internally screamed. Is she flirting with me?!

He couldn't stress it enough, but yeah. She was beautiful. Any time old flames reunite, one was bound to compare the other to the last version of them that they saw.

Is she really a cop? He wondered. She was like a model with her toned body and striking looks. All these what-ifs started popping up in his head again. And then this bitter feeling of regret got thrown in the mix. It was usually the one left behind who felt the brunt of the breakup. Unfortunately for him, he was the one left behind. He realized that he was starting to drift, so he shook his head and then stared at her directly in the eyes.

"Yeah, you are." It wasn't mocking or sarcastic in any way, it was purely earnest.

Is he trying to flirt?! Her face turned a darkened shade of pink. Never mind that she was the one who started it. The sudden jolt of excitement and romantic thrill got her to open up another can of beer, which she chugged it down in one fell swoop. She slammed the can back down on the table with force and scooted over to his side. The Snow Woman held out her palm as if to say 'gimme' and he shook his head as a 'no'. The two went on like that until one of them had enough.

Mizore gave him a poke on the waist. It was a good thing that he didn't instinctually lash out, given his nature. "Ow! Hey!" She poked again and his body jolted slightly upward. Seeing his reaction, she grinned mischievously, which was never a good sign. Her tickling torture was relentless, but he kinda liked. She switched up her tactics and pinched his waist, which seemed to be the most vulnerable part.

She felt a little horny at getting a feel out of his six-pack, but she continued anyway.

He was laughing uncontrollably the longer she kept tickling him and eventually, he gave her the phone. He was no match for her fingers.

Mizore, at the height of her narcissism, thought that photos were good and they captured her good angles. She shot him a look of approval and gave him a 'thumbs-up'. It felt weird, but the mood was ripe for all sorts of playful and flirty shit. She leaned back on his sturdy frame, catching him off-guard, and held out his phone with the camera ready. She'll just have to regret it later.

Tsukune managed to force out an awkward smile.

****

 **Mizore was pressed up to him and he could feel his pants tighten.** He was a man starved of intimacy. Sure he went to a few whore houses while he was on tour, but it was never enough. After being employed by Fang-fang, the mafia lord set him up with a Jiangshi, like Ling-ling. He didn't bother to use rubber since the woman was already dead, so he didn't need to worry about getting her pregnant. After they had done the deed, Tsukune spent a whole day in the infirmary with his dick oozing. He never let Fangfang set him up ever again and he abstained from sex since. That was two years ago.

He was lucky that Mizore was leaning on his shoulders and not on his front. His dick was so hard it could be used for karate chopping cinder blocks. It took everything he had, every ounce of will power to not wrap his arm around her tight waist or fuck her right on the spot- or anything that would make him a sex offender for the matter.

When she went back to her seat, a wave of relief washed over him, but the boner was still there. He avoided looking at her for about a minute and squeezed his eyes shut, imagining things that had a hundred-percent chance of softening his manhood. Things like his stank-dick, hairy spiders, slug-men, etc… Once he was limp he looked back at Mizore who was eyeing him strangely. Turns out she had been talking to him, but he was too busy trying to deflate his balloon that he didn't hear what she had to say.

"Are you having an attack again?" she asked. Oh boy, she had no idea. He was having an attack alright.

"What 'attack'?

"You know… PTSD?"

He shook his head fiercely in denial "I'm okay! Really!" he held up his hands defensively. There was no way in hell that he would tell her that she was the reason for one of the hardest boners in his life. It was just a misunderstanding, but misunderstandings could lead to a lot of big things. Her furrowed brows were an obvious sign that she didn't buy a word he said.

"I'm okay, Mizore." He took a sip of beer, wishing that it was enough to dissuade her from prying any further.

But persistence, as you could say, was Mizore's middle name. But it just sounded dumb if said out loud. His constant dodging was really getting to her; so much that she looked like a fuming tomato.

"It was the news wasn't it?" she blurted out.

This woman was as sharp as a KA-BAR. It was one of the things that he hated…and loved about her.

"What?"

"The fire in Shinjuku…it triggered something, right?"

If there was a scale with his feeling about her on both ends, it would've tipped slightly to 'hate'. But one look at her and it would slightly tilt back to 'love'. It those feelings of his ever had a personification then it'd be two kids trying to outdo each other on the seesaw. Maybe he should kiss her just to shut her up? No, no, no. That was too rude of him. It was time to stop letting his dick do the talking and return to the more pressing matters.

"No. It didn't."

"I saw you while you were the news. You had this distant stare and you were crying." he didn't notice, but Mizore watched him the moment he stopped walking back at the mall. He was like a still-frame in the frantic and bustling backdrop. A small glint rolled down his cheek. At first, she thought it was a reflection on the TV or something. But after much scrutiny, she figured it really was a tear. He looked lost and empty, thousand-yard-stare and all.

"I was?"

She gently nodded. "There's nothing bad in admitting it Tsukune… have you gone to a VA or therapist at least?"

It wasn't her words that broke down his walls- it was the look in her eyes. It was the complete opposite of 'staring daggers'. Hers was reassuring like an embrace or whispered words of comfort saying things like 'it's going to be okay.' But it was all made through eye-contact.

"I don't think it'll be the same way as here. I was with YDF, not the JSDF. Humans will think I'm a crackpot or something if I tell them I was part of a monster battalion." The existence of monsters was a heavily kept secret. It was the reason why the war started in the first place. But since the YDF and the FISR (Federation of Interspecies Relations- it was kind of like the UN) won, The Supreme Council decided that it was still too early for the big reveal.

"I meant back at home? There are a lot of qualified monsters out there that could help you."

"I didn't have a good reason to go." In other words, he was out doing so much wet work for the Huang Mafia that going to a therapist seemed rather pointless.

"Try it. It might help. I know someone near Mirata Road in East Valley. I'll talk to her and maybe she can set you an appointment."

"East Valley? That's back in the mainland, isn't it? I don't know…" he wasn't legally declared dead in absentia yet, so if he stepped foot back at home and someone sees him, it might cause a stir. Well, he planned to wait two or three years since he'd be literally dead by then.

"Tsukune, I still care about you. So, come on…try it okay?" Saying that felt like dropping a fucking nuke on a clear field of Kansas Wheat. It was an unexpected move, one that pressed all the right buttons. It was enough to have him reluctantly agree. This woman was just so damn persistent. It was also endearing. And also kind of hot.

"Promise me you'll go?"

He didn't want it to be the type of 'okay, I'll go.' And then really not go. She was a decent, good-natured individual and her intentions were nothing but pure. It'd be a slap in the face if he didn't go.

"I promise. But I gotta ask 'ya…would you have said it under any circumstance?"

"What?"

"The part where you said you cared about me?"

"No."

****

 **It became very apparent that Mizore was drunk.** There was a slur in the way she talked and her sense of balance was all over the place. She'd knock over a few cans of beer and say she's sorry as if to save face. The harder you try not to look drunk, the more you get drunk. There was some sort of exhaustion in fighting the alcohol running in your brain. It's better to just leave it be.

Mizore got all philosophical and spoke in broken English. Tsukune couldn't understand what the fuck she was saying but it managed to get a laugh out of him. She'd get angry and he'd say sorry. A few times, he caught her dozing off. It must've been a special skill to fall asleep with your eyes wide open. He'd tell her that she had enough, but she was adamant and damn-near ignorant to the limits of her body. Instead of fighting, he relented. He'd like to see how far she'd go.

They talked about life's ups and downs. She told him how there was this guy in her workplace that had a crush on her, but she didn't know how to turn him down without wrecking his life. He'd internally get jealous and tell her that she should be direct as to not lead him on. She was drunk enough to be in a position of heightened suggestibility, so it looked like she was going to take it to heart.

The Sukiyaki was already cold and it became unappetizing very quickly. There wasn't much left anyway since he did all the heavy lifting. Mizore only had about a few bowls. Maybe that's why she was piss-drunk. As their conversations deepened, Tsukune found himself picking out pieces of meat from the pot with his fingers and then munching them down. He did that from time to time.

Their friends were brought up and so was high school. Mizore told him how much she disliked being made the Newspaper Club President in their final year since it added a shit-ton of work to an already busy semester. He said that there was a vacancy that needed to be filled and he couldn't continue being the club president since he became the President of the Student Council. Mizore already knew that but she just wanted a reason to complain more.

Speaking of friends…

"Didn't you have a reunion a few days ago?"

The mere mention of the reunion almost sobered her up. "Yeah…"

"How did it go?"

"It…" then she remembered Kurumu's bloody hands "didn't go so well."

"Why is that?"

"Kurumu…had a relapse." She considered not uttering a word about the memorable occurrence a few nights before, but since he was indirectly involved, she might as well tell him. He deserved to know. "She's starting to remember again…"

"What did she do?" he asked despite knowing what she'd say.

"She went hysterical… and broke her hands." Mizore looked like she was on the verge of tears and took yet another swig of beer "It's already been so long since her last one. We thought that she finally recovered. I don't really think that it was right to let her undergo the memory wipe. We should have done something you know? It feels like we took something from her. Oh god…" Mizore wiped away a few of the salty droplets freely cascading down her flushed face.

"If we didn't then she'd be dead already." He was the only reason why Kurumu suffered so much. The whole mechanic of "destined ones" was so unfair. And he hated everything about it since the rejecting party would feel responsible for any sleepless nights and wounded feelings. It was emotional blackmail at its finest.

"Gee, I wonder whose fault is that?"

"What did you say?"

"Nothing."

"What? You think it was my fault?" he asked since she had this accusing gaze.

It was a hard question, and frankly, not the one she would want to answer. But circumstances compelled her to and she was willing to drop a few more bombs and get it over with. "Yeah…I think so. But I think it was more about you choosing that fucking vampire bitch."

That hurt harder than that .408 Cheyenne Tactical even though there was some truth to it. It was completely unexpected, like a sucker punch but using a battering ram instead. "You never really do get to choose who you love." It was an argument that he always told himself to lessen the guilt; he just never got the chance to say it to anyone else.

That's the thing about harems- someone was always bound to get hurt. It all starts fun and sexy, eventually you think for yourself and your future, think about monogamy, pick someone and then it all falls apart. You realize you weren't as close to them like before since the one you picked started monopolizing you and you regret it and wished you didn't pick at all. But if you didn't, you'll lead them on, they got hurt and you'd want to kill yourself in the end.

"If I recall, you had four choices- five, counting Yukari, if you were into that type of shit." Mizore got heated up, ready to hurl more words of pain. "But instead you choose the one who wanted to play monopoly and separate you from your friends." It was a scathing remark, to say the least.

"I'm sorry but that argument is really stupid."

"Yeah…like Kurumu was stupid, and Ruby and Yukari… like I was stupid. Stupid enough to fall for you." Mizore crushed the empty can of beer in her hand with monstrous ease.

"There was no way that I could have made you all happy, damn it!"

"You're wrong about that, Aono." Putting his insecurities aside, they would have been happy as friends. Strip away all the romantic feelings and there would be friendship and camaraderie that could still stand on a solid foundation. But his relationship with Moka put a dent in theirs, weakening the foundation until it all crumbled down.

"At that time…it was either Moka or you guys…And it had to be Moka." Tsukune saw her face twist in pure disdain at the mention of her. What really happened between the two? A few rumors floated around that the two had a fight when Moka came back from a five-month absence.

"Then it really was a good thing that I broke up with you before things got serious between us." She sneered in absolute, poisonous, scornful derision. In all truth, things were already serious on her side. What made it worse was that she didn't have a full grasp of his feelings about her. But after hearing it coming from him, she was lucky to have dodged a bullet there.

He took offense to that. There was only so much indignation that he could handle. "Is that why you broke up with me? Because you thought I wasn't serious about you?"

"Among other things."

"You're wrong about that one, Shirayuki. I was serious!"

She clenched her teeth. Was she a joke to him? Did she really look that stupid to not know that it wasn't the case? "Do you remember what happened before the 'incident'? When she suddenly returned out-of-fucking-nowhere?"

He remembered being with Moka in the Yokai Academy rooftop that day, even though he and Mizore were already lovers. Moka pushed him down, wanting to set things straight.

"It was obvious that you were never serious… seeing that she was all over you!"

"You never gave me a chance to explain!"

"What I saw back then…does not need an explanation." If there really was an explanation to it all, she'd rather not know. The fear in her heart couldn't allow her to accept any possiblity of truth in his denials.

"How would you know?! Huh?! You just broke up with me without letting me say a goddamn word!"

"And you just let me go! No hand-grabbing or any of that shit! You let me leave, Tsukune! Fuck!" she dropped all pretenses of subtlety. Years and years of pent-up rage finally released towards the source of her grief "I wanted you to fucking stop me so that I had some consolation that you loved me. But you didn't… You just stood there. That's saying a lot about you."

Tsukune had no comeback for that one. That's where he admitted defeat. The pair became silent as the tension was so thick it became harder to breathe. Mizore leaned back and stared at him with equal parts of contempt, regret, and sadness.

They were the only ones left in the restaurant. All of the other customers were already gone. The restaurant guys just stared at them, letting them have some closure even though it was way past closing time.

"I hated you, 'Ya know? For the longest time…"

Tsukune didn't say a word and braced himself for the incoming tirade. He could take it. It'll only take a few more beers, but he could take it.

"I broke up with you… because you were an unfaithful son of a bitch." Her anger had already dialed down. She looked exhausted like she was going to drop any second.

He nodded. That was true. He was only ever really faithful to Moka. He hated himself for that too since he remained faithful even after she left him.

"Because you were indecisive." a trait that provided them with false comfort that maybe one they'd be the main love interests of their own stories and not just underdeveloped characters of a harem.

Come on, bring it all out. Tsukune thought.

"I thought that there was a happy ending for us. But I was wrong… there really were no happy endings in real life. You would've never made a good lover, a partner, and a husband." She continued, drunkenly crying her heart out. All those memories of them being together just exploded and it was so painful for her. But the most painful of their memories together, incidentally, was also her happiest.

"You would have never made...!"

...A good father to our daughter? She stopped mid-sentence after realizing she was about to drop yet another nuke. Her lips were looser than most reputations and she wasn't prepared for the consequences if she were to ever tell him of something that important. It was already eight years… he didn't need to know anymore. He didn't deserve to know. It's something that she'd rather take to her grave.

"I get it… I'm the worst." He smiled bitterly.

"Yeah, you are…" she felt lightheaded and the resentment she wore like shield got whittled down.

"Then you must have regretted it, huh?" he asked.

"What?"

"Us?"

That was a question she asked herself all the time. Eight years was enough to figure out an answer "Yeah, I do. But it wasn't all that bad."

****

 **Mizore blacked-out a few minutes later.** I seriously thought she went into a coma. With a little help from the resto-guys and a lot of apologizing, we managed to book a cab. The driver asked me 'where to?' I couldn't give him an answer for about ten minutes since Mizore's address wasn't really common knowledge. So we sat there in the car, hazard's blinking, while I try to nudge a few words out from her (almost) non-responsive state.

Eventually, she managed to irately piece together a sentence and went back to sleep. She used me as a pillow and I could smell her sweet shampoo that became oddly fragrant when mixed with the smell of alcohol leaking out of her pores. It was a good thing that her level of intoxication never went above 'puking madly'.

For the rest of the thirty-minute trip, she kept sliding her hands over my chest and she placed both of her silky legs on top mine, while she rested her head on the crook of my neck. I couldn't really do anything about it because I started drifting in and out myself. When she stirred in her sleep, her lips would press on my neck and from time-to-time, she'd give it soft kisses. It was really testing the limits on how far a man could hold back. During a lucid interval, when I wasn't dreaming with my eyes open, I saw the driver giving me a look that said 'you good, bro.'

I didn't give him a tip after that.

We arrived at her slightly-lavish looking apartment. Before exiting the car, I fished out her keys from her purse that –coincidentally- had her room number on it. I would have to tell her to change keys because it could become a security problem.

I carried her bridal style, struggling to remain diligent since I was tipsy myself. The first thing that assaulted my eyes when I entered the complex was the sign that said "ELEVATOR UNDER REPAIR". After a slog through the stairs, we reached her room on the fifth floor. I never let go of her when I opened the door. I had enough foresight not to place her keys back in my pocket.

I dropped her gingerly on the bed and after that, the heat that my body generated from the climb released a ton of sweat. A few seconds later and my shirt is all soaked and sticky and I really want to jump out of a building. Mizore caught me in an embrace and wrapped her well-toned arms around my neck.

She whispered my name "Tsukune…"

It was just the two of us in a very compromising position.

Without all the distractions that the outside world had to offer, I got a good unobstructed look at her face up close. She really is beautiful. Pale skin, long lashes… Just beautiful. Her lips were pouty and her face was really red making it look really erotic.

I gently wiggle out from her embrace. Tsukune Aono isn't the type of man to give in to temptation. I feel good about it for a while and feel like shit not a moment later when I saw a few tears slide down from her eyes. Jumping out of a building seemed like a viable option right now. I just learned not too long ago that she hated me. The harsh, truthful words felt like gunfire at point-blank range. I was so used to getting shit-on by my commanding officers and Fangfang that I thought I could handle it. But it was different when such words came from someone you loved.

Those were the kind of things that will stay with you for a long time. Even when you're not actually thinking about it. Or if you're having a good time, it'd pop-up and you think about all the wrong things you did. Day instantly ruined.

I guess I really was unfair to her and to all of them. Would things be different if I got together with Kurumu? Why did I choose Moka? Why didn't I stop Mizore from leaving me? Would Mizore and I still be together if I gave her the ring and proposed to her before Moka came back? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Too much 'what-ifs' for my beer-pickled-brain to process.

My feet brought me back to Mizore's side. Looking at her and wishing things were different was something I never wanted to experience. I had to do something about the dull ache in my chest. So I drop down on a knee and plant a soft kiss on her forehead. She would never know. The worst case scenario is when she suddenly opens her eyes and she completely cuts me off the morning after. It didn't work and I was left with an even more painful ache.

"I'm sorry…" for everything.

I go to her living room thinking that it was time for me to head back, but not before looking around her apartment. This might be the first and last time I see this place. It certainly looked better than mine. It felt lived-in and homey, especially with all the baskets of unfolded clothes lying around. That reminds me… I haven't even unpacked yet.

Isn't it April? Her calendar was flipped back to March and there was a red circle on the number 8. My body started craving alcohol again. March 8 was the day of the 'incident'. But was it such an important date for her as to warrant a yearly reminder? She never actually did much back then, instead of maybe fight that 'thing' but if I remember correctly she was hospitalized soon after.

I really need to get wasted when I get home.

My hand was inches from the doorknob when I realized that my back pocket was a tad bit airy.

****

 **It was midnight when a large cargo truck rolled down the highway.** It was en route for Port Akiba.

"Why couldn't we just…use magic to transport this motherfucker?" Beady Eye said asked in a heavy Australian accent.

"Because the Boss said that due to the delicate nature of this truck's content, he'd rather not risk diluting the purity of whatever-the-fuck it was back there. Or would you rather prefer having an international conglomerate of fucking vampires hot on our ass?" Goose, the driver, said in a condescending tone as if he were speaking to a five-year-old.

"You know, there's a higher chance of something bad happening if we're transporting it by truck. " He shook his head "Just sayin'."

"But it would be more inconspicuous it we did transfer it by truck." Goose kept his eyes on the road "Just sayin'."

"Whatever." Beady Eye reached for his radio "How you are guys doing back there?"

"Are you sure this fucker's brain-dead?"

"Why? What's happening?" there was panic in his voice. He knew just dangerous their cargo was.

"I saw him twitch a few seconds ago."

Beady Eye sighed in relief "That's a normal occurrence, Bingo."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Okay."

"Woah. Who the fuck are these guys?" Goose depressed the gas and slowed to a halt after seeing a squad of black-clad and heavily armed men blocking the road. One of the said men flagged them down. Goose, thinking that they were police, obliged and got off the road.

"Bingo, get your men ready. We might get trouble." Beady Eye radioed in.

"Roger."

The man calmly approached Goose's side and knocked on the window which Goose lowered "Good evening, gentlemen." The man said while sporting an all-too-polite smile.

"Good evening," Goose replied with a smile as fake as his Jordans. "If I may ask, kind sir, who are you again?"

"Port Authority."

There was no fucking way that these guys were Port Authority. They were three miles away from Port Akiba and no Port Authority in the world was armed like a fucking J-SOC unit. But Goose rolled with it and reached for his sidearm.

"May I see your papers, sir?"

It was the perfect opportunity to pop a cap in the man's head. But the man was faster. Before Goose could even pull out his pistol, he was already dead. The same happened to Beady Eye.

Bingo and his men jumped out from the truck's huge container. Bullets were sprayed and they never reached the ground alive.

The black-clad assailants formed up on the truck's rear as the man known as "Silverback" jumped inside the shipping container. He's the type of you'd look at and say 'oh he's the bad guy' with his Latino features and his sharp looking goatee.

"This is Spearhead."

"Go ahead, Spearhead."

"We received the package."

"Good job. Remember: bring it back in one peace. Out."

"Copy."

The container had computers inside of it. All of them were neatly lined up for whatever purpose they may have served. At the end of the container was a stasis pod that bathed the surroundings in an otherworldly hue of green.

There was a man inside it. A very tall man suspended by tubes. If he were to stand straight, he'd be well over seven feet tall.

Silverback grabbed a few vials from one of the chemical synthesizers and jammed it into his pocket. He was about to jump out of the container when he heard a scraping sound coming from the stasis pod.

He went back cautiously, weapon raised and finger on the trigger. A voice in his head told him not to go, but curiosity overrode his better judgment. He analyzed the tank and the man inside it. The man showed no sign of movement except for the faint rising of his chest. Written above the pod was:

" **A56- Hokuto Kaneshiro"**

Then he realized something: if he were to look back down, he'd expect the man's eyes to be wide open.

He was right.

The last things he saw were bright, demonic red eyes and a pair of sharpened fangs.

To be continued...

A/N: I'm sorry for the long wait. Life got in the way of writing. But rest assured, I will be frequent in my updates. So what do you think about the new chapter? If you like, please leave a review and follow it. If you have any constructive criticism, I'd be happy to listen as it can further improve my writing :) Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hello everyone! This is a remake of my story called After A Fairy Tale.
> 
> There was a confusing history behind this story. The previous story was already acquired by someone else and then he eventually dropped it altogether and left me hanging in the air. So I used some of his drafts and added my own ideas and voila. This will play out very differently from the the previous story and I hope you tune in for more! Review it please! Love you all


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